Six Months
by Naraka7
Summary: Trapped on Helghan, a young pilot must fight for her survival alongside a firebrand sergeant. What happens when loss, haunting memories, and the hostility of the natives drives these kindred spirits closer together? Jammer POV. Reposted.
1. Vendetta

_Vendetta_

"Jammer, get on the radio double-time and get us some support: the Hig flank is about to fold!"

The lieutenant was a good man, able and willing to enter the meat grinder with us unlike the rest of the brass. A good shot too; whenever a skull burst I could chalk it up to the L.T. The man saved me during the first wave after my Intruder was downed. We held off a platoon of Helghast and reinforcements before Punisher broke through. As he carried me to the APC I heard bullets riddle his legs and back. Nothing but adrenaline kept theman from falling apart. Against all odds we both managed to make it through. At that point I was ready to die for the L.T.

But he didn't die for me. The Hig sniper hit him dead on. Bits of skull and globs of his brain drenched the rest of us. One of his ears flopped next to my boot like a pancake, the earring on it still shimmering. Something snapped and I grabbed my rifle. Against the sergeant's orders I rained bullets on the Helghast. Helmet after helmet popped off. My blood raced as I watched theirs run, dripping over the edges of the concrete blocks and steel beams serving as piss-poor cover. It took a strong hand yanking me behind cover to put the pieces of shattered sanity back together. I looked into the haggard face of the sergeant, a helmeted man with a thin moustache and soul patch. He was a good soldier but he was no Lieutenant Wong.

"Hold fire, corporal," he growled. "Killing Helghast _is_ part of our objective but it's not gonna bring Lieutenant Wong back." He flinched as the bullets whistled into the concrete block behind me. A few ricocheted off the mangled steel beams of the warehouse overhead. From a hole in the ceiling a pair of Intruders cut through swathes of unseen Helghast with their front loaded miniguns. Some of the bullets clambered into the warehouse around us.

"Looks like we've got back up. Alright boys; get ready to flush 'em out with frags. I need three volunteer grenadiers."

I was there, shouting back for two others. Two large explosions rattled the warehouse as the cruisers overhead launched an orbital strike. The Helghast in the warehouse continued to pour the fire on as my two teammates, still rattled by the salvo, staggered towards me.

I checked my ammo. Two mags left for the M82; more than enough to put down a few goggle-eyed freaks.

Four clips for the old semi-automatic M4. It served the regulars well during the Invasion of Vekta and it would serve me well now.

Five grenades. I was ready. My teammates barely had enough time to catch their breath before I gave the rallying cry.

"Hammer 'em!"

I pulled the pin out of the first grenade and launched the Door Knocker at the Helghast lines. My comrades did the same. We ducked as the blast sent metallic shards at over a hundred miles an hour into the Helghast. Their dying screams were music to my ears.

"Again!"

We launched another volley, flushing more out of cover and tearing them to shreds. My teammates watched as I leapt over cover, rifle cocked and eye down the sight. My surroundings blurred and disappeared behind the flash of the muzzle as I took out straggling Helghast with pot shots. Easy kills or not I wanted them dead, burning in Hell in the L.T.'s place.

Fire from my left threw me behind one of the concrete pillars. Two Helghast took positions in the rafters above, one with a StA3. The LMG gunner found the other grenadiers and the remains of my platoon. He tore up concrete and men alike. Several guys shouted for a medic as I peered down the sight. I aimed at the Hig's upper chest and fired a three round burst. The bullets hit just above his clavicle, into the breathing mask, and dead center at the top of his forehead. He dropped like a sack of bricks. His gun fired a few more rounds when it hit the concrete. The LMG's support gunner turned his rifle on me but a few shots from the platoon put him down. More Helghast raced across the rafters, throwing curses and grenades at us. One of my grenadiers got a hold of an M327. There was no use in letting it go to waste_._

"Hey! Gimme that Thumper!"

Against my wishes, he held on tight to the weapon. "No way! You'll get shot to shit before you get a chance to hit anything." He ducked as bullets skimmed over his cover. "You just stick to suppressing and I'll knock on the Hig's door!" His eyes went wide as I pointed the rifle at him.

"Either you give me that thing or the Higs get an easy kill!"

"You wouldn't-"

The grenade detonated the steel crate, throwing him back. The weapon rolled out into the open.

"Shit!"

He retrieved his rifle, charred and speckled with metal frags as it was, and threw himself over and behind a fallen concrete pillar as the Helghast shot up his last position. I heard the unmistakable firehouse sound of the "Stova" pissing bad news on the rest of my men. We were here too long; if I gave the Helghast anymore time then there was no way we'd be able to move. I looked from the rafters to the Thumper and back again. I waited until the LMG gunner reloaded. Emptying my mind of everything but the basics, I threw myself out of cover. Bullets sliced the air above and around me, slamming into the cement beneath and the rafters above. My grip on the Thumper tightened as an enemy grenade landed at my feet. Not bothering to throw it back, I took cover behind the same concrete pillar as my ally. I heard the ping of the shards as they punched into the railing and rafters of the warehouse. Too close.

"You're a crazy bitch! You know that, don't you?" He zipped his lip the second he caught my eye.

"Watch it or the next grenade that comes out of this thing will hit you where the sun don't shine, you got me?" I checked the chambers of the canister. Six grenades sat snug inside, waiting to be fired.

"I read you," my buddy gulped. "Now blast those Higs back to wherever the hell Higs come from."

He fired his weapon, giving me cover as I peeked over the edge and pulled the trigger. The recoil was a bit more brutal than a shotgun's. The grenade landed in the rafters where the Helghast started to run. The blast knocked a few on their faces. I didn't give them time to recover; as my comrade picked two off my second grenade tore the limbs from the third and sent the fourth and fifth off the catwalk. One of the bodies landed on a stack of cardboard boxes, spilling the stack of plastic fuel drums inside. The barrels thumped as I rushed out from cover, my teammate close behind. The Helghast took new positions on the factory floor and continued their dominance of my platoon.

Our boots clanged on the steel steps of the staircase as we cleared what was once the foreman's office. The PA system had a few wires torn lose. An idea started brewing.

"Sergeant Picard, Jammer here. I've got a way to slow down those Higs. Tell everyone to cover their ears."

"We've got no time for another one of your tricks, Jammer," barked the sergeant. "Lieutenant Wong may have thought you were some sort of prodigy, but I won't-"

"Just fucking do it, sergeant!"

I clicked off the headset and went to work on the radio wires. A stream of bullets biting into the ceiling of the foreman's office almost made me lose focus. The ripping zipper sound of a minigun from one of the Intruders rained bullet jackets down on the Helghast, catching the attention of the LMG gunner and a few others. They aimed their weapons skyward.

"Man, they're ripping into that Intruder," voiced my fire buddy. I tossed him the Thumper and told him to keep them at bay. The hollow drum sound of the launcher filled my ears as it spat its last few grenades at the enemy. As the clamor of battle continued, I tied copper wires to an old 9-volt I carried around with me. Ignoring the tiny bites of electricity on my fingers, I flipped the switch on the radio. The sound of the thumper came through over the loudspeakers. Perfect. I snatched the microphone, a relic of the past, and ordered my teammate to cover his ears.

"What? Not another one of your harebrained schemes. Can you at least listen to a little feedback once in a while?!"

"Not a problem."

I dropped the microphone in front of the speaker. The ear-splitting tone resounded throughout the factory, sending friend and foe to their knees. Working against the pain, I aimed my rifle at the reeling Helghast and fired. I was a beast and there was no stopping me from ripping the Higs a new one. Several of them dropped before the strong among them fired back. I kicked the microphone away from the speaker, giving one last jarring bit of feedback before silence overcame the warehouse. By then my antics had caught the attention of the others in my platoon and they tore into the still-dazed Helghast. Black uniforms dropped as grey ones pushed out of cover to secure the warehouse. It would have been easier with Wong, but I know he'd be proud of me regardless.

The surviving grenadier clutched his head. "Christ alive, next time warn me when you're about to pull something like that."

I gave the boy a smug look as I helped him up. "You don't need to worry about your ears; I get the feeling you don't use them anyway." He snorted in disgust as we left the foreman's office. I flashed the sergeant a confident smile and placed my hands on my hips in anticipation of the accolades he'd rain down on me.

"Alright, you did okay corporal. Just don't let me catch you pulling the same crap under my command again."

"Gotcha, sergeant." I winked at him, feeling the rumbling under my feet. Those of my unit who weren't on their butts held on to the walls as the warehouse quaked. Thrown off my feet, the helmet broke my fall and cracked in the process.

"Jammer, you okay?" The sergeant ran over but another tremor ended up throwing him on top of me. Before I could kick him off, I was blinded by the electricity crackling across the sky. I checked to make sure my ears weren't bleeding. The sound of a thousand explosions tapered off as the startled shouts of ISA and Helghast flooded into the warehouse from the gaping hole in the ceiling.

The sergeant crawled to his feet without bothering to help me up. He clicked his headset.

"This is Saber Squad. Sir, what the hell just happened? It sounded like... what? The entire grid is down? So the New Sun managed to… I see. Well we'll make sure their sacrifice wasn't in vain. Yes sir; warehouse secure. Punisher Convoy is clear to proceed and cover the east exit out of Pyrrhus. Yes sir, can do." He called the others around him. "Listen up people; the Petrusite Grid's down which means the city's defenses are offline for the moment. The major wants us to cover Punisher's advance toward the Maelstra Barrens in anticipation of a Helghast counterattack. We're then to assist in staving off that attack."

"What about the warehouse, sir?" And the lieutenant's body; we couldn't just leave the man there.

"Change of plans, corporal. We _cannot_ let those Higs break through and reinforce the troops already in the city." His voice became somber. "And I don't want to let Colonel Templar's sacrifice go to waste."

We lowered our eyes. Templar was the only officer every boot on the ground truly respected. We all heard the stories about Vekta and even though none of us ever met him in person we were ready to risk everything for him.

The hum of the armored vehicles outside the warehouse cut short our moment of silence.

"Ride's here. Corporal Robles," the sarge ordered, using my name for a change. "I want you, Kicenzki, and Brown to man the guns on those HAMR's. The rest of you are on me."

I didn't want to run. I didn't want to surrender Vincent's body to the Helghast.

The sergeant pulled me aside. "We'll be back for him, corporal. Now, you have your orders and the clock's ticking. Move it out." If there was one thing I learned about the sergeant it was this: never invite him to a funeral.

We'll be back for him… it was an empty promise, but I did what the L.T. would've wanted me to do and stayed with my men. I lingered by his body a bit longer, remembering the memento he brought to Helghan. I even knew the exact pocket from memory; left one on his chest. I retrieved the flattened metal cylinder and ran my fingers against the iciness of the lid. He told me once he was a wide receiver for St. Junipero Serra University back on Vekta and kept a small container of "eye black" paint from his days on the gridiron. Cuts back on glare to help you see what you need to see, he once told me. I pried the lid off the can and dipped my fingers into the mix. I drew a line under each eye and, picking up a shard of glass on the floor, examined the war paint. I guess it looked alright; would have looked better on him.I placed the container of paint and his tags in a safe place.

"Now I know you'll be with me wherever I go, lieutenant. Goodbye…Vincent_._" I saluted him for the last time and made for the exit.

I joined the unit outside and was greeted with the smell of diesel and rubber. Burnt steel also found its way into my nostrils as I strolled over to one of the HAMR's. The vehicle was a mix between the bulky Archer Tank and the nimble but fragile Buggy.

"You sure are one heck of an ugly baby," I whispered while taking the gunner's seat.

"You'll see just how pretty she really is, little lady," the driver chattered through my headset. "I dare say she's even prettier'en you." I rolled my eyes and pulled the hood over my head. After having a helmet on for so long, I felt a bit naked. The engines roared to life as I checked the screen in front of me. The ammo count was so high it might as well have been unlimited. The guns were in pretty good shape and I held back the urge to tinker with the weapons system. It was something the lieutenant would indulge in me. The memories made me look with yearning back to the warehouse. I'd like to say he loved me, or more realistically he greatly appreciated my talents. Whatever the reason, his memory would be hard to shake. The HAMR tried its best as it jerked forward and sped alongside the buggies and tanks. I scanned the countless balconies and punctured walls of the stories-high structures lining the street the Helghast called Bilgarsk Boulevard. Nothing crawled in this street except ISA; the convoy did an excellent job in securing a foothold in this part of the city.

A few brave Marines whistled at me. I suppressed the urge to turn the guns on them.

"Hey, you want me to run 'em over for you," the driver's voice crackled through the headset.

"When we're done with the Helghast, be my guest," I radioed back. I could care less; they were just guys being guys. It was the Helghast, who weren't even human, whom I would rather grind into a fine red powder beneath the tires of the fifteen-ton beast carrying me through the streets of their damned city. I thought one last time about Wong and how his young wife would take the news and of his little girl growing up without a father to protect her from guys like the Marines and monsters like the Helghast. I knew what it felt like to lose loved ones to the Helghast… I could still see their faces, pale and lifeless like their killers. They were the extra baggage I carried to Helghan and now the lieutenant added to the weight.

I wanted to unload the pent up misery and anguish on those responsible for it, even if I had to personally twist the neck of every living soul on this planet. It took the brutality of the Helghast and the journey to this cursed planet to awaken cravings within me I never believed were there: vengeance, hatred, fury and frenzy. The disease of the Helghast was contagious.

Before the day was done, one of us was gonna be left bleeding out on the ground.

What I didn't expect was that the other would be burning.


	2. Second Sun

_Second Sun_

"Hostiles to our left! Hammer 'em!"

The MOMAG roared to life as I sliced up the earth beneath the encroaching Helghast platoon. Infantry fell to my bullets without offering a single shot in resistance. Their blood drenched the thirsty Helghan soil. They wanted to give their all for the planet and they got what they wanted. Fire from my right drew my attention toward a group of Advanced Assault Infantry. I hosed them down, throwing a few bursts from the mounted cannon for good measure. The buggies and HAMR's in front kicked up sand, browning-out the air around me. The coarse grains lashed at my face, and I found myself thankful for my hood. Muzzle flashes kept me from reaching for the goggles, forcing me into a constant battle to keep sand from breaching the protective layer of my eyelashes. A layer of the finer dust stuck to the beads of sweat built up on my face from the heat of the inhospitable Barrens. I felt a trickle down the back of my neck amid the chaos of orange goggles and muzzle flashes. A rocket lunged my way. It landed short but forced the HAMR into a rough evasive maneuver. A geyser of sand shot up from where the missile hit. A jeep pulled up, blocking my sight of the crater as its gunner fired in the direction of the rocket. Another rocket slammed into the buggy head on, flipping it in a smoldering heap while the gunner slammed headfirst into the back of my transport. The sickening thud of impact and the crunch of his neck breaking sent a jolt through the whole crew.

"Did a rocket clip us or something," the driver barked at me.

"Negative. It was the gunner on one of the buggies," I shouted back. His response was deafened by the MOMAG fire I unleashed upon the enemy.

The column approached a knoll where a squad of Helghast armor was waiting for us. Tank fire made dust out of one Archer. Another Archers sped up and returned fire. The gunner on the coax went insane, nailing every Helghast pouring out of the APCs. Bodies fell like dominoes as another HGH tank pulled up. Kicenzki bludgeoned the tank to death with cannon fire from his HAMR. His MG sent the support crew scurrying for cover. Our enemies kept us at bay with suppressing fire while their tanks pushed through the Barrens. Several Archers broke away from the convoy to engage the HGH tanks in an old fashioned armored brawl.

"Driver, those tanks need support!"

"With all due respect, little lady, I've got to continue to the DZ. These are probably skirmishers."

"You think they'd send an entire armored brigade as skirmishers? The Helghast got the jump on us!" Bullets bounced off the vehicle and showered me with sparks. "You either turn toward those Archers or you'll be short a gunner!"

"Face it, hot stuff; you wouldn't last a minute out there!"

"Boy, you better not piss me off; I know more about the tech systems on these HAMRs than your own crew does! If you break down without me, you're S.O.L!"

"Alright already! Command, this is HAMR Six. Request permission to break off from column and provide support to Armored Nine."

The Major's voice came through the headset. "Negative, HAMR Six. A team of EXOs are on their way to provide support. Stay on mission."

My hand slammed down on the console. "Fucking officers can't get their heads out of their asses."

"Easy there! Sorry corporal; I tried." The whirring of mechanical feet turned my attention away from the bitter taste of the major's refusal and toward a pair of mechanized suits leaping over several buggies to get to the tank column. The ostrich-like legs of the LS 209s carried them quickly through the sands. Their machine gun arm cut down any Helghast resisting their approach while rockets from their launcher arm knocked a platoon of Helghast into the broken remains of their armored carriers which were used as platforms for the EXOs to come down hard on the flank of the Archer column. They showered augmented Hellfire Missiles down on the HGH light tanks.

"Looks like the Rabbits have it under control," the driver assured me.

Not satisfied, I turned the turret to the nearest group of enemy tanks and let the cannon loose. The iron fist punched holes in closest tank and sent the gunner headfirst into a bead of machine gun fire. My cannon battered another tank, this one blowing up moments after I was out of range.

"Turn us back," I demanded.

"Goddamn it, you heard the Major! We have to-wait? What the fuck is that? TANKS!"

I looked to the front of the column as four Heavy HGH hover tanks trudged down the hill in the distance. Close behind were anti-air APCs whose twin mounted Chimera guns tore three of the buggies to shreds. Kicenzki, Brown and I lined up our shots and began hitting the APCs. One of them detonated, its top half slamming into a Heavy Tank. The larger vehicle swerved from the force of impact. The Helghast inside must not have felt a thing because the tank aimed its main gun at Brown's HAMR. With Kicenzki busy it fell to me to smash the tank. My cannon fired burst after burst into the hardened carapace of the tank. No doubt the crew was starting to get rattled; the gun took much longer to fire than it was supposed to. When it did fire, though, Brown's HAMR flipped from the back end forward like a man tossed from a bull and crushed a buggy. Both went up in flames and halted our advance.

The frantic chatter over the radio made me skittish. My MG and cannon peppered the tank column while the rest of the column formed a ring around the fallen HAMR.

"Punisher Convoy, what is your delay? Why have you stopped?" The Major's voice was as angry as it was distraught.

"One of the HAMRs is down, sir," my sergeant replied with a pleading urgency in his voice.

"Leave it behind. You are to continue to the designated zone and stave off the Helghast counterattack, do you hear me?"

"With all due respect sir," I cut into the conversation, "we are facing the attack in question seven klicks away from your designated zone."

"Acknowledged; sending a team of fast movers to your current posi-" The feed fizzled out. I couldn't even hear the sarge anymore. I tried switching the button on the headset as Kicenzki shouted and pointed to another APC in the distance. Arc Carriers. The blue rod crackled with lightning as it aimed for our column.

I tried the radio in vain; either my driver was unaware of the danger or in awe of the weapon's ability to tear up the first row of our lightly armored column. With our tanks still engaged and no hope of EXO support, it fell on me and the rest of the HAMR gunners. I aimed at the Arc Carrier and showered it with explosive shells. The beast managed to fire another fire hose stream of lightning before it detonated in blue rings of angry electricity. The shockwave disabled a couple of the surrounding vehicles and probably fried the men inside with lethal doses of Petrusite. The Arc threat eliminated, I tried the radio and to my relief found it was back online.

"Driver, get us to the side of those tanks. We'll flank them and take some of the fire off our men!"

"The major's gonna have a cow when he finds out you-"

"Major's not here, driver! Now step on it!"

"Alright, corporal, but if I get slapped with a court martial it's on your head."

"Don't worry; I won't let you stand in front of that firing squad alone. Now hustle!"

The brute of a vehicle jerked to life and sped away from the safety of the pinned down convoy into the no man's land of the Barrens. The cloud of dust kicked up by the half ton tires of the HAMR alerted the HGH tanks to our position. Turrets began to track our movement.

"Faster! We can't let them lead us," I radioed Kicenzki and the sarge, who was not very happy with the way I wanted to seize the initiative.

"Robles, you get back here this instant! If the Major finds out you went against his orders he'll-"

"Major's orders don't matter anymore, sarge. You're in command now!"

"Then I order you to fall back. If not I'll see to it your court martial is expedited!"

"I guess I better die out here then, huh?"

"Robles, you-"

I clicked off the headset and took cover as fire from the twin mounted Scylla's threatened to rip my head clean off my shoulders.

"I'll drench the graves of my ancestors with your blood, Vektan," the gunner screamed at me. His body ended up slumped over the turret of the tank. The gun wheeled my direction as one of its companions fired. The shell landed short, dumping sand over the HAMR. I kept my finger on the trigger, blasting the tank until its turret flew off in an explosion. The smoke hid my position from the rest of the forward column. Perfect. I turned my attention to a supporting Light Tank and took it out with ease. The treaded vehicle collided with one of the heavier tanks, throwing the hovering beast off balance and sending it crashing into the exposed rock of the Barren floor. In its panic the Heavy Tank fired a shot into the earth, drenching the other craft in the vicinity with sand.

I noticed cannon shots from our side. Kicenzki and the others were convinced of my tactics. Even the sarge cut in to my fucking up the Hig formation.

"Whatever you do, Robles: DON'T STOP POUNDING THEM!"

My gun ripped the escaping tank crews to shreds. A Light Tank broke rank and moved out to engage me. The machine gunner sought me out. I replied with a torrent of bullets as the faster HAMR ran circles around him. I popped a few shots from the cannon into the chassis of the Light Tank. The bastard swerved but kept pursuing. I sent both MOMAG and cannon rounds into the tank. The pinging of the bullets and the hard crunch of the cannons ripping through steel was soon drowned out by the dying screams of the crew. The tank crashed its carcass into the sand.

"Sweet baby Jesus," the driver yelped, "Almost flipped her there! You okay up there, corporal?"

"Fine," I shouted back and sent bursts of bullets into the advancing line of Helghast troops. A rocket slammed into the HAMR and I hung on for dear life as the driver tried desperately to gain control. "Driver, get this situated now!"

"Driver's dead," the navigator informed me as he took the wheel. "And I don't know how to drive one of these damn things!"

"What do you mean you don't know how to drive one of these things? You're the navigator, aren't you?!"

"I don't even have my license yet! Cut me a break, lady!" The craft swerved, nearly throwing me off the turret. "Sorry about that!"

I'm sure the navigator squirmed in his seat when he heard me growl. "Stop this thing! I'll drive and you get on the gun!"

"But I don't know how to use the turret-"

"It's like using your rifle, idiot!"

"But I don't-"

"Just stop the damn-!"

The tank shell was dead on. I heard the dying gurgle of the navigator as my world was turned upside down. Gravity brought me hurtling down on the sands of the Barrens. It was not the hard landing I expected; it was far worse. I blacked out for what seemed like a millisecond second before coming to. The HAMR landed ten feet away, its shattered windshield soaked with blood. Another tank shell slammed into the HAMR but the damage was done. Any attempt by me to stand resulted in excruciating pain. I cursed and crawled over to the HAMR. The sharp burst of wind as one of the battered EXOs leapt over the wreckage had me reeling. The EXO landed and fired a salvo of rockets at the remains of the armored group. Its machine gun battered the Hig line as I finished the crawl to the wreckage. Using the burnt out shell of the craft as support, I managed to get to my feet.

After making sure the lieutenant's possessions were still in one piece, I reached for the M4 and fired a single shot. It didn't jam in spite of the dust-choked air it was exposed to. I made my way to the driver's window as bullets meant for the EXO struck the wreckage. A limp and bloodied hand hanging from the driver's seat greeted me. A quick peek inside found me face to face with the mass of bloody pulp which was once the driver. I searched for a better weapon to complement my pistol and found a couple M82's snug in their wall-mounted holsters.

Three tracers greeted me. I grabbed the rifles and booked it. Fast movers streaked across the sky. I covered my head as they dropped their ordinance. The blast threatened to throw me back to the sands of the Barrens. Sand slapped my hood as the headset crackled to life with the sarge's voice.

"Echo Five to… Delta Hotel… Requesting another pass!"

"That's a no-go, Echo Five. We're at Bingo and bugging out."

"What the… you mean by Bingo?"

"Cruisers… fleet under attack… need… AAHH!"

The unmistakable interference and sizzling of the air around me meant one thing: another Arc APC. I peered over the edge at the armored vehicle and spotted the blue finger unleashing an unholy spout of light that split one of the aircraft in two. The HAMRs tore into the Helghast as I made a break for the ruins of the cockpit. I kicked up a small dust cloud which thankfully went unnoticed by the 'Ghast manning the mobile Arc. I leaned up close against the twisted metal but not too close. My hair rose on end, sliding up against the back of my hood. I planned out my attack: several grenades to get them running for cover, a quick leap from cover to put down a couple of them, then reaching the Arc cannon and disabling it… somehow.

The first part went according to plan. A couple frags got the Higs scrambling for cover amongst the burning skeletons of their armor. I burst out from cover, taking a moment to line up my shots with the reflex scope and pelted a couple of their Commandos before their shotguns got a bead on me. As they fell I slid into cover behind the Arc APC, checking my clip. Ten bullets to go before I had to reload. I peeked over from my cover and found a Shock Trooper racing towards me. The agile little shit rolled to evade my bullets, rising as I ditched the weapon and went for my sidearm. He pissed bullets in my direction, which I rolled to evade. The shots spat up sand as they followed me behind a smoldering shard from one of the Light Tanks I had murdered earlier.

"Taste my liquid steel, Vektan!"

The Shock Trooper's taunts ended with a mouthful of liquid steel. As he crumbled I raced from my hard point. Another Shock Trooper met me on the way. Once again rolling to avoid their fire, I ended up close and personal with him. My M4 went to his chin, spattering pieces of his skull into the sand around us. I kicked his weapon into cover, fell in behind it, and reloaded both the pistol and the M82. Salvaging ammo for the StA11 from both Shock Troopers, I slung the SMG over my hip and scanned for more Helghast as I rounded the APC. Imagine my surprise when I was greeted with three more Assault Infantry and a grenade spitting Commando. The hijacked Thumper detonated against the mobile Arc's shell, drawing the attention of the crew. They lowered the cannon enough to walk out into my line of fire. As their bullet-riddled corpses wilted, their newly arrived comrades rushed my position. I cut down two of the Assault Infantry as the Commando continued launching grenades to cover the three troopers attempting to flank me. They hadn't counted on the extremely high rate of fire from the StA11.

The Commando rounded the bend, his StA18 aimed right at my head. I ducked, the shot going wild. I fired off my pistol, striking his shoulder. The old Helghast resilience came through and he closed in. His pistol whip failed as my one free hand managed to hold him back. Fighting dirty was the best way to get him to stop; I let my left leg slip, carrying my right foot straight into his crotch. He groaned as his knees buckled. On the way down I plugged a few bullets in his chest, but he got the last laugh and pinned me to the sand. A body is a tad bit heavier when it's dead. Just a tad.

"Get off me!" I tried to push the Helghast off but his fully loaded two hundred something pound corpse wasn't going anywhere.

"Robles, come in!" The sergeant.

I clicked on the headset. "Jammer here!"

The sigh betrayed the sergeant's relief at hearing I was okay. "What is your current status, corporal?"

"Still breathing, sir, although the Hig pinning me to the floor is doing a good job of making it hard."

"Come again?"

"Nothing, sir. Will deal with the situation presently." I could only imagine the look on the non-com's face as I grunted the body off me. "Situation dealt with, sir."

The blast from a HAMR cannon sent me flying into the shell of the Arc APC. When the throbbing in my head subsided for a second, I clicked on the headset.

"Sergeant: tell those HAMRs to stop firing in the direction of the mobile Arc. Say again: divert fire away from the mobile Arc!"

"What; are you gonna try to use their own weapon against them?"

The wheels turned. "Thanks for the idea, sarge."

"Stand down, corporal! Do you even know _how _to use Hig tech?"

"Much as the Higs themselves. Gimme a minute and everything will be one giant Charlie Foxtrot."

"For them or for us?"

I climbed into the mobile Arc. After tapping a few keys and trying a few manual overrides, the device was mine to control. The orange screen came to life and I got a perfect wide-angle view of the ISA line. Half a dozen buggies lay in flaming heaps throughout the line. Rockets and cannon bursts flashed from my buddies as tank and MG fire from encroaching armored craft threatened to break through. The camera panned toward the Hig line. Two more Heavy Tanks and a Light Tank joined the party, navigating the mess we'd left behind for them. They opted to stop just far enough for their turrets to pick off our guys. I primed the cannon. The electric finger roared to life with a charge-up sound that was the stuff of nightmares. The motor controlling the movement of the cannon lowered the beam in the direction of the tanks. A simple flip of a switch and pull of a lever sent a stream of volatile Petrusite into the tank. The blue-white streak punched clean through the vessel. The resulting explosion drew the attention of the Light Tank. The slow speed of the turret gave me enough time to prime the weapon for another shot. The Light Tank went up in a blaze of glory. Several Hig troops raced out from the fire to offer the obligatory resistance. I ignored them and aimed for the second Heavy Tank. I unloaded pure Petrusite on the Heavy Tank. Streams of the arc broke off and shocked the shit out of several infantrymen. Poor souls must have had Teslite Grenades handy.

"Tank reinforcements eliminated. Now redirecting fire to the tanks currently battering your position."

I turned the electric howitzer towards the no-man's land where the HGH tanks continued their decimation of my troops. Ignoring the Hig fire to my left, I primed the gun and lined up my shot via the screen.

Then came the flash. I closed my eyes before the shockwave hit. The mobile Arc flipped over, its systems going offline seconds before it slammed into the rock of the Barrens. I rolled, gravity no longer holding me back. The shockwave sent me into one of the walls. Everything went black right after.

Even in the darkness, the light of Pyrrhus managed to cut through as a million tortured screams reached me, half Helghast and half human, all incinerated by the second sun.


	3. The Girl with all the Answers

_The Girl with all the Answers_

"Now who can tell me why an organization like the United Nations, which had the backing of all the developed and Second World countries, failed Terra in its promise to maintain the peace and prosperity of its residents?"

Barely the second week of Interstellar History at Alan Shepard University in Rayhoven and already most of the class was struggling to understand the mess that was Terran History. Professor Rodion, through droning lectures and desk pounding with his prosthetic arm, dragged us by the hair kicking and screaming through a brief outline of prehistory and all that good stuff into the 21st Century where he insisted "it all began." It was a distant time, one which only a few of my classmates bothered to study about. I did just enough of the reading so I wouldn't look like an idiot when the teacher called on me. If it got me through the first thirteen years of my education, it would get me through the next five.

To no one's surprise Conrad Sterren, the brains of our outfit, rose from his seat. The boy stood in front of his seat at attention. The instructor's chin was raised, a gesture he made when he expected the correct answer. We watched Conrad begin to buckle under the weight of Rodion's stare. Some of the smartasses pointed and laughed among themselves. A slam from the metallic arm on the instructor's desk was all it took to snap them into place. After taking time to recover from the professor's outburst, Conrad cleared his throat.

"Because the United Nations-"

"Speak up, Mr. Sterren. The class has a right to know this information as much as I do. We are a unit, remember?" Earlier in the semester the teacher, Rodion insisted we act as his old unit from his days serving in the blockade of Helghan, which meant if one of us failed they'd drag us down with them. Many walked out the first day. Rodion's response was simply: "If they did that in my old unit, they'd be put in front of the firing squad on the first go. It's too bad I can't shoot any of you, though." He laughed but the comment made the rest of us squirm.

"Yes, professor Rodion." The boy raised his voice. "The United Nations failed because of two factors: the greed of the corporations who lent it money in 2040 and the scarcity of available sources of fuel. Afterward, the conglomerates based in New York and London led the charge into the Third World War; voracity led to the nuclear devastation of 2059. The United Nations had been reduced to a corporate commodity obeying the whims of the magnates."

The hand slamming on the desk threw poor old Conrad back into his chair. I stifled a giggle as my friend Aileen shot me a warning look. I nodded to the blonde and directed my attention back to the satisfied instructor.

"Outstanding! It was the Second Great Recession of 2034 that led to the collapse of the European Union. The banks, having been saved by the federal government of America, and the Oil Conglomerates, foremost of those being British Petroleum and Total, began to meddle in the realm of politics. The world became mostly capitalist thanks to a wave of revolutions paid for by your friendly neighborhood oil companies. The Crisis in the Middle East whose solution evaded humankind for nearly a millennium was solved in 2036 when the UN forced Israel and the United States of America by mandate to recognize the statehood of the Palestinian refugees who had toppled their Fundamentalist rulers and declared an open republic."

Rodion was inspired and started jumping from topic to topic while the rest of us tapped away at our screens, trying our best to keep our notes in synch with his lecture.

"Terra saw its fortunes dip in 2039," he continued. "Israel found itself blockaded by a hardline Syria fresh from civil war. A subsequent police action by American and Israeli forces resulted in a disastrous route by Pakistani and Iranian-backed troops. This building of tensions led to total recession and near depression in 2040 to 2043. The capitalists and opportunists saw the chance to strengthen their voices on the world stage and managed to convince Communist China to 'loan without interest' the equivalent of 15 million Vektan, or 8 trillion old American dollars, to the collapsing European Union via the United Nations. Only two world powers had enough strength and gall to walk out of the UN Headquarters upon the declaration of this monetary salvation: Communist China, disgusted that it had been tricked to serve the West's purposes once more, and the delegate to the Islamic Republic of Iran. Both allied with the Federation of Russia in deep cover. Once they had enlisted the monetary aid of Singapore and Jakarta, aggressive moves were made in Africa and the Arctic sphere where oil was to be drilled when the reserves in the Middle East ran dry. A combined Republican Guard and Iraqi militia defeated Iraqi and Afghani armies, ending Western influence in both countries and bringing them under direct Iranian control."

He paused to sip some coffee, tapping his metallic finger as if letting us catch up was a burden to him.

"The Chinese nationalized their labor force in time to topple the North Korean government and defeat South Korea in a resumption of the Korean War in 2050, placing the entire country under Communist rule and allowing the American soldiers in the country a chance to flee. Did the Americans take this chance?" It was our turn to inform him.

No one's hand went up. Not willing to spend my weekend doing double the homework, I raised my hand and stood from my seat. The professor eyed me, a little surprised. "Yes, Ms. Robles. Is it possible you have the answer the rest of your classmates do not?"

"Y-yes sir, I do." Why did I have to worry about embarrassing myself when I had done the homework the night before? If there was anybody who should be embarrassed it was those dumbasses who sat back in their seats, playing games on their PDDs. Making them pay wasn't worth the extra work load. "The Americans withdrew their troops mainly to settle the unrest caused by sympathizers to the flood of refugees coming in from the civil war stricken Mexican Federation."

"Once again: outstanding." This was my cue to sit on it.

"Due to popular demand back home, the American government agreed and withdrew its troops. Both Iran and China, and later Russia when it was revealed that the Federation had gone rogue, whittled away the Western European/American supremacy in Africa, the Middle East, and the Far East. It wasn't until Pakistan allied with Iran and broke relations with America that the stage for nuclear war was set. An unsteady peace with several noticeable incidents culminated in the attempted invasion of America by the Red Army of China and Western Europe by Russian forces. Iran invaded and took hold of Saudi Arabia and the Levant, cutting Israel off after Egypt capitulated. The Israelis were the first to launch tactical nuclear strikes aimed at Iranian cities. The bloodlust took over and what began as precision strikes soon became a competition to see who could wipe the most civilian centers off the map as quickly as possible. Israel itself was completely destroyed, effectively eliminating the most sacred sites in the world to many Terrans and creating a ripple effect still felt to this day. Close to four billion perished in the bombardment until a ceasefire was called by the Republic of Turkey, Sweden and Switzerland, resulting in the revocation and reissuing of the Geneva Convention into the extensive Stockholm Treaty of 2060 that endures to this day."

Rodion smiled at us. "Now then, do any of you busy playing with your little toys know the contents of the Stockholm Treaty?" He looked in the direction of the troublemakers. They shrugged with fake confidence. I shared the professor's desire to have them shot. Unfortunately this show of solidarity caught the professor's attention. "It seems Ms. Robles will have to come to your aid once again. Trust me when I say this, gentlemen: the only role you'd serve in my old unit would be cannon fodder, and I'm sure Ms. Robles would be the one to push you into the fire, wouldn't you?" He looked on me as I stood, wide-eyed and unable to speak. He laughed, which only made me look away. To no one's surprise, the jerks in question cracked whispered jokes.

"The Stockholm Treaty granted greater rights to civilians and prisoners in times of war, in addition to ordering the dismantling of what remained of Terra's nuclear arsenal along the prohibition of nukes against civilian targets. It also decreed the remaining major powers in the world: Turkey, the United States of America, Australia, China, the United Kingdom, and Switzerland to band together and form a Terran government out of the ashes of the UN. An addendum proclaimed the true separation of Church and State, stipulating that no religious institute was to ever comprise any government functions. Religion was to remain a solely private institute and one that could be suppressed if it threatened the security of the state and the world."

"The exact words of the text regurgitated for your benefit," Rodion told the rest of the class. "Once again, Ms. Robles, you redeem the rest of your fellows. Now you didn't go further to state that the UCN was born as a result of the Treaty. Why not?"

"Because the UCN wasn't established until most of the known Solar System was colonized by the Terran government. After the horrors of nuclear war, humanity looked for resources among the stars. By the time Luna was militarized and a garrison placed on Mars the UN had become defunct. The first United Colonial Nations wasn't established on Earth until after the surface of Mars was formally settled by civilians."

His raised hand stopped me. "More outstanding verbatim regurgitation, Ms. Robles. Once again you've proven this old soldier wrong about the current generation. It seems among the lot of bad apples there's always one free of the worm of social degeneration. You should all be so fortunate," he raised his voice, "that none of you live on Helghan. Here you have the freedom to fall asleep in the middle of a lecture and not have to worry about how much you're paying for it, whereas on the Helghast home world you'd be in the State's hands, and no one taken in by the State is ever heard from again. But if it was up to me," he said, wagging his finger specifically at the group of morons in the back, "I'd send each and every one of you there for a week. If there's one thing I admire most about the Helghast, it's their discipline. Even though extreme at times, it gets the job done." His chest swelled. "Those Helghast are the toughest soldiers in the universe; don't let the Vektan propaganda machine convince you otherwise. You're gonna have to deal with them one day, so you might as well learn how to STAY AWAKE IN CLASS."

He slammed the metallic arm once more, throwing one of the distracted students off his chair. This time he did not calm the laughter of the rest of the class.

"Alright, time's up. Remember to read chapters eight through fifteen for next class. I want you to be more alert; you may receive a surprise guest."

I groaned. "Surprise guest" meant a pop quiz that wasn't as "pop" as he made it out to be. I left the smell of freshly painted plastic behind as I entered the hallway with Aileen.

"You just had _all_ the answers today, didn't you girl," Aileen nudged me. Her ponytail slapped against the back of her neck as she turned her head to say a quick hello. "Poor Conrad only got that one."

I shrugged. "I'm sure he would've explained it better than me."

"I don't know; you did a pretty good job. Conrad would have lost us with his nerd speak." I loved Aileen, I really did, but there were times where I wished she'd step out of high school language-wise. "It's scary how we almost made ourselves go extinct at one point. Do you think we'll be capable of making weapons like nukes again?" The fear in those green eyes was obvious.

"Nukes are banned."

"Or what if the Helghast attack us," she said ignoring me. "My dad's been following the news a lot lately and he's been hearing some pretty scary stuff coming from Helghan, like how the Helghast are beginning some sort of military buildup. I really think they might attack us one of these days. I hear they treat their people like animals. Who knows how badly they'll treat us?" Her voice was shrill whenever she began to have a mini freak-out.

"Relax, Aileen. If the Helghast are going to attack anybody it might as well be Earth. The UCN screwed them over pretty bad."

"Maybe they'll get us as warm up or draw Earth out here and kill us all. They _are_ a rogue colony; what if they have nukes of their own?"

"Then they would've launched them against us or Earth at some point."

"You don't know if one might be hurtling towards us right now. Or maybe not one but a hundred!" She clutched her binder tight against her dark green vest. "I heard nukes are hot enough to burn your shadows into concrete. My dad even said the shockwave has enough force to knock your eyeballs out of their sockets."

"Well, if they were gonna throw _anything_ at us, we've got nothing to worry about. You forget so quickly about the SD Platforms."

"Well, what if those go bad-" She yelped when I grabbed her.

"Listen to me, Aileen," I said looking into her eyes. "The Helghast are not going to attack us. If they do, and that's a fat 'if', we'll stop them before they have a chance to reach us. No one is gonna die except for them, got it?"

She bit her lip. I cleared my throat and let her go.

"Isn't that right," I asked the students who stopped to stare, trying to keep the embarrassment at a minimum. "We don't have to worry about the Helghast setting foot on Vekta, am I right?"

"Please," one guy scoffed. "We got the SD Platforms and Earth's Navy is just a few days away. Besides: we kicked their asses before, so I don't think they want a repeat performance." The other students murmured their agreement and I gave Aileen an "I told you so" nod.

"Not only that," one of the female students spoke up. "If the Higs even try to invade, I'd sign up. They don't want any of this." She plopped her binder onto the floor and showcased some of her martial arts skills. One of the classroom doors slid open and an instructor poked her head out, reminding us classes were still in session and for us to shove it. The others scattered but I stayed with Aileen.

"You see? Nothing to worry about."

"I hope you're right, Jimena. Maybe I listen to my dad too much… I gotta call him and tell him to lay off the news for a while. It's that kinda talk that drove my mom into the wacky shack." I apologized to her for bringing up memories of her mother in the asylum. She gave me a cheerful smile and brushed it off.

"That's why you're my best friend: you've always got the answers I need." She gave me a quick hug. "Thanks for that." The girl may have been a bit immature but that didn't discount her sweetness. She was so fragile I felt like I had to defend her from everyone.

We continued the walk down the hall as the clocks rang the Westminster Chimes in crisp tones before sounding the hour. Six o'clock on a brisk October night. I thought of home, of settling down in front of the TV and using it as background noise to help me study. Dinner would be a sandwich or takeout from the noodle place down the street. Sister would be in the shower or studying herself up until ten then it was off to bed while I stayed up till two cramming. Would fall asleep on the couch and wake up with my hair a total mess. Hop in the shower, grab a quick bite for breakfast, then take the tram back here for my Physics class at nine followed by Economic Theory at noon and then an hour break. Lunch would be a salad from the cafeteria then on to Political Sciences until five, and then back home with my sister. A quiet life free from strife and that was the way I liked it. And would do anything to keep.

"You zone out or something, chica?" Aileen's cheerful voice took my mind off my mental calendar.

"I was just thinking… you wanna go to Diortem this weekend? I've got nothing going on and my sis'll be over at a friend's for the night."

"I don't know. Diortem's a pretty big city."

"So's Rayhoven and you don't have a problem living here."

"Yeah but…" She drew in a sharp breath and I raised my hand.

"I'll give you time to think about it. If not we can veg at my place for the night, watch some stupid movies and pig out on pizza. Regular girl's night in, what do you say?" I was becoming comfortable with the idea and started hoping she'd agree.

"Sure! That sounds positively-oh, hi Yuri!" She stopped to speak with one of her many admirers. I checked my PDD and noticed several missed calls along with a voicemail and text. Both were from my kid sister.

**WEN R U GNA PCK MEE ^ B.S.?**

Oh, why couldn't you text like a normal person, Eva? I accessed my voicemail as Aileen droned on with the gangly bearded boy.

"Hey sis. Just wondering when you were gonna pick me up. I been waiting here for a while now. You promised me you'd take me to that yogurt place for my b-day! Eww, I have to tell you: a couple of the guys here already hit on me and they weren't that cute. Please hurry before they whittle me down with their 'college charm'! 'Kay love you bye."

Normally my father would have been the one to pick up my sister during his lunch break at the shuttle repair bays, but since he and Mom decided to take a second honeymoon on Terra the responsibility fell to me. I clicked off my PDD and excused myself from Aileen who somewhat disavowed my existence. I would text her later. I made my way down the hall but not before stopping for my daily look at the interior garden of the university. The lily ponds and cherry blossoms served as a reminder of how much my parents had sacrificed to get me this far, but even with the costs this university was overshadowed by places like Secunda U in Vekta City and SJSU in Sedah City.

My PDD screamed at me.

"I'm sorry, Eva. I got a little sidetracked. You still outside?"

"I've been out here for over an hour, Jimmi, hurry it up! Those same guys are still trying to get at me."

"Tell 'em your big sis'll kick their asses if they don't stop," I suggested while racing down the stairs. "I hope they laugh; it'll make smashing their heads in much more enjoyable."

"That's not very ladylike, Jimmi. Remember what Dad said about things like that."

"But Dad isn't here, is he Evita? Just hold on; I'll be right there. You at the front-front?"

"By the statue of…" I imagined she stopped to read the plaque. "'Alan Shepard.' Isn't he your school mascot?"

"Not really but I know exactly where you are. Stay put."

"Okay. Hurry; one of them looked my way again."

"Yikes. Resist, Evita!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Click.

I was off. Before dashing out to meet the birthday girl, I looked back at the beams of sun giving the cherry blossom trees one last wash before dipping behind the shade of the skyscrapers, marking the end to one of the last peaceful days on Vekta.


	4. As Pyrrhus Burned

_As Pyrrhus Burned_

The sizzling of wires and unstable Petrusite brought me back to the hostile Helghan world. Every nerve ending in my head screamed and throbbed with nauseating intensity. All I could remember was the flash and shockwave. The word "fission" came to mind, though I don't know why. All I cared about was getting out of the damn Arc APC and onto solid ground.

Urgency gave way to claustrophobia. I hadn't experienced the same disturbing sensation since I got stuck in a mail delivery tube as a kid. I re-repressed the memory by checking my weapons. M4 still cocked and spat the bullet and jacket out. M82 was mangled. StA11 jammed and managed to impale the inner plastic shell of the vehicle somehow. My pistol would have to do for now.

I staggered toward the exit hatch. My headset crackled to life with indistinct chatter. I listened, hoping to hear about the explosion. Nothing but a few words about an Arc Battery being disabled followed by the garbled mention of an orbital bombardment. The blasts shook the interior of the vehicle. After recovering from the volley I heard Intruders pass overhead. The urgency increased as I began the painful climb up the rungs of the ladder. I was greeted with an orange sky and bits of rubbish floating on the breeze.

I scanned the area. Helghast littered the ground, some bleeding out from under their masks. A few had been cut clean in half by chunks of armor plating. One crawled to the safety of a fallen Heavy Tank, his femur shattered like glass and bits of tendon and muscle slapping against the sharpened edge of the fracture. Not bothering to waste a bullet on him, I flopped out of the APC and landed hard on the craggy surface of the Barrens. The menacing rumble in the distance fanned smoke over me. I combed the wreckage for a better weapon while the feeling in my legs trickled back.

Something smacked me from behind.

"Get up, bitch!"

Apparently I missed a few Higs.

The gruff order was followed by a boot to my side. The gasps of pain encouraged the trooper to pull me up by my hair. I caught sight of the knife strapped to his shin. On my knees with a rifle aimed at the back of my head, I heard the footfalls of another Helghast as they made their way over. My curiosity was rewarded with a whack that could have cracked the planet in two. The Higs looked to each other, debating silently on whether I should be executed on the spot or not. The superior give his approval with a wave of his pistol.

"With pleasure, sir. I'm going to enjoy splattering this slut's brains all over the sand."

Not today. I exhaled, letting all reason and doubt leave me, and reached for the knife. It slipped out of its sheath and was in the man's leg in less than a second. My other hand reached for the M4 and plugged the superior with four bullets. Struggling against the neck-breaking grip of the other trooper, I aimed the pistol over my shoulder and fired. Three bullets sent the Hig to the floor and attracted the attention of nearby survivors. Reloading the M4 as fast as I could, I picked up the StA52 and fired a burst at the approaching tangos. They dropped like bricks, sending the others rushing for cover. I slid into cover behind the scorched chassis of a Light Tank. Bullets pelted my cover as I waited for one of them to reload. When the opportunity came, I aimed for the individual still firing and sent a few bullets his way. He ducked in time.

I checked for spare frags. One remained. I lobbed it over and popped out of cover, stopping the pair as they bolted to new cover. Tangos down, my instincts told me to look in the direction of Pyrrhus, something I'd neglected to do.

A sight unseen in centuries towered over the remains of the city. The sheer size of the mushroom cloud dwarfed the entire fleet of cruisers still suspended above the city. The rings of clouds above and around the middle section of the spire began to drift but the cloud itself remained, looming over the smoldering city like some angry god of war come to claim his kingdom from the unworthy humans.

"Why?" was all I could ask. Why would Visari nuke his own city? Everyone knew the man was capable of depravity to achieve his goals, but launching a nuke against his own troops, men he claimed to idolize, topped the list. The plume continued its rise into the atmosphere as I pressed on through the boneyard.

More flames and smoke greeted me along with burning metal and rubber treads. Dismembered corpses of support gunners, infantrymen, and tank crews were spread over the remains of what was once a Helghast armored battalion. Stepping over their bodies and under the twisted turrets of more than a few tanks, I made it out of the boneyard only to find more wreckage spread across the patch of no man's land I'd traversed with the HAMR. I had a better view of the mushroom cloud as well as the massive fleet of Helghast ships, more advanced than the cruisers we'd faced en route to the planet, making its way from the opposite direction of the ISA fleet. I now saw Visari's strategy: kill as many ISA as possible in one go and then finish the job with overwhelming numbers. The most obvious strategy in warfare yet it wasn't ho-hum when you were the one outnumbered.

Across from where my platoon and the armored column had faced off I spotted another scrap heap much smaller in size but personally more devastating. I went weak in the knees when I realized I was the only one left. Hig survivors combed through the scrap, yanking bodies out of vehicles and tossing them onto the sand. A few, in full view of their superiors, urinated on the corpses. Remembering the L.T.'s headless corpse and how the same Hig could later piss on his remains, I crouched and aimed at the nearest Helghast. The shot ripped into his chest. He stumbled and I split his skull with the second shot, his carcass plunking onto the floor. Several of his mates spotted me. The familiar whirring of bullets reached me as I dropped two more. I lined up for a final shot before the reload and stopped a Hig racing into no man's land. He rolled face first into the sand, snapping his neck late in the tumble. I slipped another cylinder into the bullpup rifle and made my way through the Barrens, breath catching in my throat as more 'Ghast tried to stop me. I moved from cover to cover, stopping only to pop a Hig when they were stupid enough to take a shot.

A Shock Trooper hammered me with murderous SMG fire. I shattered one of his knee caps with a single burst and followed it up with another through his heart. A stream of flames stopped me from retrieving his weapon. A lone Pyro Trooper spat naphtha in my direction. I raced out of cover, speed the only weapon keeping him off balance. He sent another flaming stream toward me. I tried to take another shot but a wall of flame pinned me behind cover once more. I was trapped and the Pyro Trooper was playing with me. I tried to move towards another hard point but the Hig was there, ready to cook me.

Assault rifle fire from the right detonated the Pyro Trooper's tanks. He rolled in the sand, his fire retardant suit taking all the damage. I put an end to his stop-drop-and-roll with a burst from the StA. Two more shots hit the body from a weapon I immediately recognized.

"Whirlwind!"

"Tornado!" The voice wasn't Hig but I wasn't about to drop my guard. I checked the ammo in the cylinder and peeked around the corner. No one greeted me in the open.

"I'll come out if you do!"

"You got it!"

I burst out from cover and raced over to the voice whose carrier burst from cover, helmet shimmering and M82 on hand. We rendezvous behind an intact buggy.

"What happened to Sergeant Picard?"

"Gone along with the rest of Punisher convoy," he replied. "You and I are the only ones left." He slid against the buggy and attempted to catch his breath. He followed my gaze.

"What the fuck? Helghast ships? How did our Intel not catch this?"

I pointed to the mushroom cloud. "It could be our Shadow Marshals got blown to bits."

"Y-you mean we're the only ones left? The only beachhead intact?" He licked his chapped and bloodied lips while I scavenged a Teslite grenade from the Shock Trooper and leapt into the jeep. I spoke to him as I worked.

"There's more ISA out there; I heard a couple Intruders pass by earlier. We need to make contact with them and find a way out of this mess." I slammed a fist into the dashboard when I found out the keys were missing. I would have to hotwire the old girl.

"Hey, hand me your toothpick real quick."

"Other Intruders, you say," he asked me as he gave me his combat knife. No sense in dulling mine when his would go unused. I pried open the console and went to work. "I heard some chatter over the radio saying what's left of Avenger Convoy took out the Arc Battery guarding the palace," he continued. "They're on their way to take Visari prisoner as we speak. Also heard the leftovers from our convoy are still holdin' Bilgarsk Boulevard. Say, corporal: could you teach me to do that?"

Both bits of the Marine's news intrigued me. No doubt Alpha Squad had something to do with it. I'd leave the capture of the Autarch to them; for now I needed to link up with the remains of the convoy.

The jeep roared to life.

My buddy flashed me a huge grin. "You really gotta show me how to do that."

"Fetch me an A.R. and a couple clips and you got free lessons." I took the driver's seat as the Marine made good on my order. It felt great to have an M82 back in my mitts.

"Get on the gun and cover us. You're working for those lessons." I heard no grumbling from him as he took his position on the rear turret. Before tearing away from the rubble I took one last look at the Helghast fleet and realized the possibility of death on this rock was becoming a reality, but like any soldier with half a brain would tell you: I'd go down fighting.

"Ram 'em, corporal!"

Helghast had retaken the outskirts of Pyrrhus and were now converging on the buggy. The private tore into them with the minigun as I picked off the survivors. The barren streets soon gave way to a wide boulevard. Streetlights lay crumpled on the road, their aluminum frames contorted into some hair-raising positions. A structure to my right began its hasty and sloppy collapse. Ignoring the cries from my comrade, I sped through the falling rubble. Chunks of concrete slammed against the tires of the jeep as a couple iron girders impaled the chassis. My partner nagged me. I pointed to the mountain of rubble behind us to shut him up. I could see from one of the side windows how the boulevard was completely cut off from the barrens; only Hig dropships could reach us now.

Sure enough, an Overlord floated overhead. The marine reamed into it with the minigun. The ship's guns showered us with heavy MG fire. I swerved, the asphalt and sidewalk chopped up by the armor piercing rounds. A Hig brave enough aimed out of the side of the craft and supported the Overlord with LMG fire. The wall of bullets coming from the sky kept my senses on a hair trigger. The marine sprayed the Hig, sending the man tumbling to the earth. A few moments later I felt the bump.

The dropship didn't back off. I slammed my foot on the gas, taking care to avoid another collapsing building and barricades. I pulled in directly under the ship. The roar of its engines threatened to overtake me. My idiot of a companion fired at the underside of the craft, raining sparks down on us.

"Knock it off!"

"What's the plan then, corporal?"

"I'm gonna try to get ahead of it. When I do, piss on the windshield! Hold your fire until then, got it?"

"Wilco!" He spooled the gun and picked off a few Helghast racing toward the buggy on foot. I slipped from beneath the dropship. The turrets got a bead on me and chewed up the road. I veered to avoid them. The booming squeal of the dropship's motor as it lowered itself for a better shot nearly made my ears bleed. The gust from the thrusters slapped the hood tight against the back of my head and lapped up dust from the street.

"I got him in my sights, corporal!"

"Well, what're you waiting for: them to paint a bull's eye on the windshield?"

The gunner coated the front of the craft with nothing but lead. The cracking of the windows and screams of the pilots were deafened by the roar of the dropship destabilizing. The craft collided with several buildings in the boulevard, ripping walls apart and throwing their Helghast occupants a hundred and forty miles an hour to into the asphalt below. The ship hit hard, sending shards of glass and steel out of the dust cloud.

"Woo hoo! Even better than goin' boar hunting with my old man back on Vekta!"

"Nice one, private, but don't get too cocky! Did you happen to hear where the rest of our guys were holed up?"

"I think about half a klick further up the road. Challenge is Flame; answer is Steam."

"Got it." I slowed the buggy down a bit and listened for chatter through my headset.

"Shit! Rocket! Evasive!" The private's voice on my hair trigger reflexes forced me to flip the jeep, throwing us out of range of the missile but tossing us out of the vehicle. I slammed into the cement but other than a potential bruise I was unhurt. The private's helmet saved his life when it took the full impact of his collision with a fallen slab of concrete. I raced over to him in the dead silence of the street.

"Private, rise and shine; you're fine." His groans had me searching for cover when someone sounded the challenge.

"Fire!"

"Steam, goddammit," the private answered for us. Three marines raced over while a fourth examined the overturned jeep. The lead trooper introduced himself as Private First Class Ochoa, Punisher Convoy.

"Corporal Robles, also Punisher. You guys all that's left?"

"Affirmative. Heard the armor bought it out in the Barrens."

"Indeed we did. Me and the private here are the survivors. Mind getting him a medic?" The PFC called out for a corpsman and explained the situation to me.

"We've been holding here before and after the nuke blast. Higs have been bringing in all kinds of hardware: dropships, APCs, even these new Troop Carriers of theirs that are half machine and half jungle cat or something. They've been the worst; one of our EXOs nearly bought it in a brawl with one." He pointed over to the exoskeleton in question. "It went on the fritz soon after and we haven't been able to get it working. We've also got an Intruder but we're saving it for when we really need to bug out. To top it all off we heard there's a Hig battalion coming in from the west, so if we don't get the EXO up and running we're toast."

"It looks like I came just in time. Gimme a few seconds alone with the EXO."

"You really know how to repair an EXO?"

"Ochoa, I know how to hack into the Hig network; something like EXO repair is nothing to me. The jeep we came in on was hotwired by yours truly." I pointed over to the flipped buggy. "You can save the wise-ass comments until I get the Rabbit running again. Who's in charge?"

"Well… no one at the moment. Sarge bought it in the first wave, L.T. in the second trying to fight off the Troop Carrier."

I gave the men their orders: rockets on the second stories of the buildings facing the corridor of death and to be used only on vehicles. Snipers on one side and a minigun with support stationed on the other. A solid line of fire supported by another minigun behind a roadblock faced the direction of the approaching troop column. The EXO and the Intruder would draw fire while the ground minigun would provide suppressive fire for the main line to advance. It was a modest setup but it reminded me of Vincent: he loved simple. It was also reckless as hell, exposing the EXO and the only means of a successful retreat to heavy fire. I figured after what I had been through to get here I ought to try to cheat death again.

One of the privates led me to the EXO. At first glance it seemed nothing was wrong other than the cracked and bloodied windshield. Trying to start up the beast was a different matter: mechanical failure in the hydraulic systems led to near complete engine shutdown. I patched it up as best as I could; only drawback was now it was reduced to a trudge instead of the hopping pace the Rabbits were known for. I had marked my man as a bullet shield, but it was a risk he insisted on taking. I let him take control of the EXO while I stood by on the Intruder.

The path leading from the west was mined and covered by the second floor gunners. The setup was complete; all that was left was to bait them into it. Though I could fly the Intruder just as ably as the other pilot on the team, I opted to support the defense with my men. I clutched the metal container containing the lieutenant's face paint tight as the Intruder pushed to the west. I looked over to the private who had joined me on the jeep ride. He cocked his rifle and gave me a reassuring smile. So far he was the only one who'd seen what I was capable of, and even though I didn't even know his name, his being there provided some small relief.

"ETA to contact five seconds." Not long after the pilot made the announcement, the downpour of rockets and bullets streak towards the Intruder. The Helghast battalion was made up entirely of mechanized infantry supported by Grenadiers and LMGs. Business as usual.

"Evasive! Reel them in! Use the Mini if you have to!"

Immediately after I gave the command, the minigun mounted to the front of the Intruder hissed rounds at the Helghast line. Men fell in droves but kept coming. Three APCs moved up to the front, lined on all sides by troopers who used them as cover until our spools ran dry. The gunners on the armor fired back, forcing us to bob and weave violently as we drew them into the web. Closer… closer…

The explosion shattered ear drums. For the next minute or so I heard nothing but ringing as the Helghast were shrouded with dust and shrapnel. I didn't have the distinct pleasure of hearing their screams but imagined the hearing-capable me would have enjoyed it.

"Nice work," I shouted into the headset. "Keep us circling around them."

The pilot did as told, rising above the buildings and letting us watch the two opposing forces tear into one another. For a while the Helghast were dropping like flies under the minigun and sniper fire. The EXO led the slow advance into the enemy line, ripping up Helghast like wet sheets of paper. The LMG gunners failed to put so much as a dent into the mech. The Grenadiers on the other hand were having a much easier time blasting holes in our line. I ordered the pilot to move lower and the LMG gunner on the Intruder to pour it on. The rest of us followed up with our rifles, punching our own holes in the Helghast line as Pyrrhus burned.

Eventually a rocketeer got lucky and hit the EXO head on, killing the pilot and destroying the bullet shield in a fantastic blaze. The Helghast, spurred by this victory, pushed back. Their APCs threatened to roll over our front line. Our rocketeers went to work, sending all three APCs to Hell. Hig infantry continued their steady push forward. The miniguns shredded them into hamburger meat. Still they pushed, numbers eventually turning the tide of battle. Several rockets took out the rocket crews and second story minigun.

Our men began to fall back. Their rout cost them more lives than the advance. The Helghast roared as their decimated but still sizeable line pushed past the first barricade and toward the second minigun. The snipers couldn't keep up with the demand and booked it. In only a matter of minutes a well-organized if hastily planned defense fell apart, resulting in the destruction of Punisher convoy save us on the Intruder and ten roughed up guys on the ground.

I thought about retreating and hooking up with any survivors of the blast. I clicked on the headset.

"Avenger Convoy this is Punisher! Do you rea-"

The rockets hit us hard, sending us into an uncontrollable spin. The craft whirled closer to the mean and green streets below. Avenger Convoy and Narville never left my thoughts as we hit the ground and the world went black again.


	5. A Birthday Wish

_A Birthday Wish_

"...so then Heidi spit her soda all over her dream guy. I swear to God I almost peed my pants." The girl laughed through mouthfuls of frozen yogurt as the train sped from Rayhoven to the station in Rayhoven East, the glorified suburb we called home.

"Are you listening, Jimmi?" Her raised eyebrow forced a nod out of me. "Really? Then what did I just say?"

"Something about soda?"

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I don't know why I bother sometimes."

"Forgive me for not paying attention, but it's been a long day. I know you want to unwind, but you have to understand I don't have the amount of energy at the end of the day you do, you get me?"

She lowered her eyes.

"Hey, don't be sad," I said, jolted by one of the many stops the train took. "It's your birthday and your big sis treated you to some frozen yogurt. Tell you what: when we get home, I'll head down to the noodle house and get you your favorite dish with everything on it." I leaned in close. "And I'll even let you try some sake if you'd like."

Eva put up an offended front to hide her excitement. "I'm gonna tell Mom and Dad when they get back."

I put my hand on my hip. "Oh really? You'd snitch me out," I snapped my finger, "just like that?"

"Well of course. Who wouldn't?"

"Fine, but don't come crying to me if I forget your birthday next year."

The train bolted and I bumped into some creep standing behind me. I apologized, but the look he and his partner gave us made the hair on my neck stand on end. Hoping they wouldn't follow us off the train, I tried my best to ignore them and keep a smile on my face.

The train reached the Alten Avenue stop in Rayhoven East where Eva and I hopped off. To my dismay, the hoods had the same idea. They tried their damnedest to blend in with the crowd as they tailed us down the steps of the station and into the lightly trafficked street. Every so often I snuck a look back, ignoring Eva against my will. They closed the gap quick when made it into park across the street from the apartment complex. They circled us, fists clenched and the dirtiest smiles on their faces. Poor Eva clutched her bag close to her chest as the leader of the duo brushed her hair with the barrel of an M3 Revolver.

"What you got for me, baby? Why don't you open up the bag and dump it all out?" He pointed the gun at me. "You too."

Hoping to get them off our backs we did as asked. Makeup, tablet, extra cardigan and change of socks, everything came pouring out. The leader kept an eye on both of us as his buddy sifted through the articles. He picked up a few extra pieces of cheap jewelry but we didn't have what they were looking for.

"No protection, man."

The pistol wielder's eyes widened with sick happiness. "Risky, but it always feels so much better." He aimed the gun at me. "I want you to shut up and watch. You move or make a sound and I'll spill your brains all over the pavement." The barrel trembled in the boy's grasp; if he fired it would hit everything in the area except me. Not that I was able to do anything about it; Eva was the one between us who knew martial arts and to see her not do anything meant I was boned.

The other boy pulled out a knife and sliced Eva's coat off. My body shook when I realized where this was going.

"Let her go." The cold barrel was in my mouth before I realized it.

"What the fuck did I just tell you?" He started eyeing me. "Unless you want to go first." He looked over to his partner. "Now that I think about it, this bitch is finer than the other one. Maybe not as tight, but we'll find out."

I had heard tales of rape from my human sexuality class last semester. A few guest speakers shared their horrifying experiences and at the end of the day I kept asking myself: why live? Why not die fighting? Why take it and decide you want to spend the rest of your life reliving the terror no matter how much you think you've overcome?

The click of the hammer as the boy cocked the weapon brought the feeling back in my legs. I kept still as his free hand began to wander.

"You don't have to beg him to let your sister go; you'll be begging for something else soon."

I began to play out how I would be used. The boy with the knife split my sister's shirt from the bottom, exposing her white bra. She protested but the backhand silenced her.

Something in me snapped. My elbow slammed into the pistol wielder's nose, sending him to the floor. The boy with the knife looked on, unsure of what to do. I struggled to grab the pistol from the punk on the floor as my sister went into karate mode and sent the other fool tripping over his feet out of the park. He was the least of my worries; Revolver Boy gained the upper hand and kicked me off. Eva kicked him in the spine. He stiffened, pain melting with anger as he turned the gun on her and squeezed the trigger.

Eva had always been so lucky. Today didn't change that at all.

I managed to make the shot go wild as I grappled with the arm of death once again. He floored me with a kick to the gut. Eva took the fight up where I left off. What little martial arts training she had paid off; the boy wasn't able to shake her off as easily as he did me. It was incredible watching the same little girl who moments before talked about silly high school drama stand toe to toe with a pistol wielding punk.

"Jimmi, what are you waiting for?"

Her plea guided my hand to the knife. I jammed the blade into the back of the boy's leg. He collapsed on one knee, loosening his grip on the pistol. Adrenaline gave him enough strength to wallop my sister. She slid away as I punched the boy's arm. The pistol came crashing down and it became a mad dash over who would get it. With the knife through his leg, he knew he would lose the race.

But he played dirty. No sooner had I picked up the pistol than he had the knife to my sister's throat. By now people were starting to notice but none were willing to put Eva's life in danger by being a hero.

"You better get it on the first shot," the punk warned me. "If not, the bitch here gets her throat slit." He laughed, bloodied and fading fast. His grip was tight enough to keep Eva from resisting and his placement of the knife meant she would end up cutting her own throat if she struggled.

I never fired a gun before. It was taboo in our family ever since my older brother made one stupid mistake with one of my father's guns. I felt the weight: heavier than I thought it would be. The handle was warm from the boy's grip but the rest of the weapon was cold as ice. I pointed it at the bastard's head. His smile grew each passing second.

"Go on and try it," he said, slurring his words. To speed things up he nicked the side of my sister's neck. Her yelps and pleas made my heart ache. I closed my eyes and fired.

I missed.

"Thought so." He tightened the grip on the knife and jabbed it into her neck. Her screams brought another flash from the pistol muzzle.

This time I got him.

Barely.

I not only saw but heard his cheek explode from the impact. Globs of his face splattered as shards of his teeth fired off in a hundred different directions. He let go of the knife and Eva. What was left of his head hit the pavement with a sickening thud.

I rushed to Eva and wrapped her in one of her cardigans as the bystanders snapped back into reality and went to work cordoning off the area and calling the cops. Eva held me tight as wailing sirens reached the park and officers approached with guns drawn. One of them noted our distress and holstered his gun. His partner did the same and radioed for an ambulance. Eva stifled her sobs as the first cop came over to check up on us.

What happened wasn't murder. It was self-defense. Something told me to keep quiet, however, until the cop asked.

He crouched next to us. "You girls alright?"

Eva sniffled. He pulled out a handkerchief and offered it. She looked into his eyes with slight disbelief before accepting. I studied the man: handsome, maybe a couple years older than me with dark eyes willing to comfort.

He looked back at the body. "Who was the one behind the trigger? Hell of a shot."

"What kind of officer are you? Shouldn't you be interviewing some witnesses?" I didn't mean to be rude, but I was coming down from adrenaline and fear.

He nodded. "True, but I thought I'd check up on you. Judging by how snippy you are, I can tell you're gonna be just fine. Something tells me you were the triggerman."

"Are you going to lock her up?" Eva's question came out in a heart-aching whisper.

"It's not up to me; the Law has final say. What I can do to make sure it doesn't happen is take you two down to the station and ask you a few questions."

"Why the station," I snapped.

He motioned around us. "You wanna stay here and relive the experience or would you rather be surrounded by armed men willing to protect you from harm?"

We sped through the city in the back of the officer's cruiser. I began to reflect on the moments before I pulled the trigger. In those moments I felt something other than fear: desire.

I wanted a gun.

I know it wasn't the smartest thing to think about sitting in the back of a squad car, but it took sheer terror to make me realize what I was missing out on. The absolute power that came with the weapon created a rush no drug could ever equal. I knew it was wrong and Dad would have a fit when he found out. I had to keep my racing thoughts under control for Eva's sake.

As the police radio hissed and crackled, I whispered to Eva. "I'm sorry about this, Evita. I know I screwed up your birthday."

"It's okay," she said in between sniffles. "You didn't mess up anything. You saved my life."

"Yeah but-lemme see that cut." I examined where the knife had gone in. My reflexes surprised me; I managed to stop the scumbag before he cut past the skin. I wrapped a sleeve of the cardigan around her neck. "If they slap us with jail time, Mom and Dad would never forgive me."

"What are you talking about? They wouldn't forgive _us_."

"I'm the one who pulled the trigger, Eva. I killed him. If they had to choose between bailing either one of us out, you know who they'll pick."

"I'm just as guilty for his death as you are."

"We'll just have to prove that at the precinct," the cop cut in. How the hell he could be so damn chipper?

"I don't even have a birthday wish."

I looked at Eva. "Come again?"

"A birthday wish. I didn't think of one because I thought I had everything I ever wanted and needed. I was just gonna think of something silly when I blew out those candles: ponies, rainbows, unicorns, the whole shtick." She wrapped the cardigan tight around her. "But now I realize I do have a wish: for this day to end, for me to get out of this car and forget this whole ugly incident. For you not to have pulled the trigger. For Mom and Dad to be here." Her voice began to falter. "I'm fine. I just..." She sniffled. My heart ached.

"I'm going to be okay," she told herself. "We are going to be okay." She took a deep breath, wiping the tears from her eyes with her fingertips. "We did nothing wrong. It was self-defense. Besides, I can't go to jail today because it's my birthday, and Dad says only losers and idiots go to jail on their birthdays."

Her words hit home for both of us; our older brother Salvador was arrested and booked on his birthday. My father would never speak of Sal except with contempt or as an example of what not to do. Poor Sal would be in Vekta City Pen for another thirty years if he lived long enough.

"I just don't wanna end up like Sally."

I gave her a hug. "I promise you: you're not gonna be like Sal because you're getting out of here before the night is over, even if I have to get locked up for it to happen."

The patrol car pulled up to the station. As we were led through the mess of police, thoughts of my parents' reactions raced through my head. The worst they could do was kick me out of the house: they gave me the responsibility of watching over little Evita, something not handed down lightly given how both were as strict and diligent in their babying of us as any parents you'd find out there. My failure meant I'd forever lose their trust. It was a thought I didn't want to entertain.

The officer sat at his desk with a stack of files. He glossed over them and started the interrogation.

"Please state your full name."

"Jimena Adelaide Robles."

"Your age?"

"Twenty."

"Date of birth." It was redundant considering he just asked for my age but I complied.

"Twelve February 2336."

"Current address."

"4507 Alten Avenue, Apartment 23, Rayhoven East."

"Your complete Vektan Personal Identification Number."

"736T-9438-68J9."

He pulled up my records.

"I see you are a student at ASU." He looked into my eyes. I can't say for certain why I blushed.

"I studied at SJSU myself," he continued. "Played a little gridiron football during my stay but my main area of study was Computer Science & Theory. Graduated with full honors and a Bachelor's but didn't go any further, and you're wondering why." He didn't bother to pause his combing of my file. "Because my dad's a lifer in the police force and wanted me to join up. There was no convincing the guy and he guaranteed me a desk job, being the Constable and all. Tried it for a few months and decided a life on the beat was better; even worked my way up to sergeant, but the old man's about to retire soon and-"

"Sergeant Wong! No fraternizing on the job. Get their testimony, get them to sign the release forms and get them out." The turbaned man left the sergeant with his warning and fled into his office.

"Yes sir. My lieutenant. Good guy but a tad too overbearing for my tastes." His chipper attitude was a bit more tolerable now, but what his commanding officer said concerning us brought me hope.

"You're going to let us go as soon as we tell you what happened?"

He sighed. "Well, since you're legally an adult in Vektan society, I guess you have a say in whether you want to be let out of here or not." He shrugged. "Of course, if you think orange suits you fine, then I can-"

"Yes I want out of here! …er, I mean yes, officer."

He chuckled. "You guys thought you were gonna be locked up? You two wouldn't last a minute in those women pens. I should know; I've paid a few visits myself." He shuddered.

Eva and I willingly gave our recollection of the events to the patient sergeant whose laid back demeanor began to calm me more than it irked me. He even got Eva to laugh a little and wished her a happy birthday in spite of the circumstances. It would have been salt in the wound but after finding out we were going home to our warm beds and not spend a night in a cell, I was ready to forgive.

"Since Jimmi's technically an adult, does this mean our parents won't know about this," Eva asked. "They're off planet at the moment."

"Gyre?"

"Earth."

"Ah, nice place considering what happened with the nukes. I've got family there myself." He wrote something on the transparent clipboard I took to be his signature. "You just reminded me," he said haltingly, "I need to take my vacation. Perhaps I'll head out there for a visit." He made a few circles and handed me the clipboard.

"Now I'll need you to sign these forms confirming your testimony regarding the events which transpired this evening as well as these signifying you were the victims of battery and attempted sexual assault."

"That's really it? No case in court or legal paperwork?"

"There's still an investigation to be had, the second perp to be apprehended, security footage to comb through and the obligatory witnesses, but there's no further need to put you and the birthday girl under any more pressure. You'll be getting some paperwork through the mail confirming whether we need you to testify in court or not, but chances are you might never see a judge."

A little relieved, I signed on the indicated lines. He had very pretty handwriting for a cop. I gave back the clipboard for review.

"You actually did us a favor there, Ms. Robles; Rayhoven P.D.'s been trying to get him for weeks. My old-er, the Constable said he was cleared for deadly force." He told us to sit tight a bit longer while he processed the files. He slipped a small drive into the slot on the side of the tablet. It flashed a few times before he pulled it out and disappeared. I must have thought myself crazy or the world itself crazy for allowing me to be so calm especially after what happened, but maybe it's what Sergeant Wong was trying to go for. His kind words and a warm attitude helped calm me.

The icy air stung us as we stepped out of the station with the handsome sergeant. I found out when our personal belongings had been returned that my PDD was broken. Great.

"You girls look cold. I don't want you catching the flu or criminals anymore this day. I'll give you a ride home." The police sergeant's voice was muffled a bit by the wind. I felt a bit uncomfortable accepting a ride from a stranger, even if he was in law enforcement. I didn't have time to let him down nicely; Eva answered for me.

"Yes please!"

Remembering it was her birthday, I accepted the ride.

I sat in the passenger seat, clicking away at the dead PDD in my hand. The darn things cost a fortune yet were so essential to every Vektan you might as well go out in public naked and blindfolded if you lost it. The sergeant noticed my dilemma.

"Broken? I'm sure I can fix it." He took it from me and with one hand on the wheel and one eye on the road he managed to get the device up and running again. He handed it back to me.

"I used to engage in a little hacking in my wilder days. I don't do it anymore, and I don't encourage you kids to do it either. I do recommend, if either of you are good with your math and practical computing skills, to take a comp class." He flashed his lights to get through a red light. "They'll teach you everything you need to know about getting your PDD up and running again, even how to counter hack a small worm or virus, but don't expect to walk out at the end of the semester ready to hack into ISA HQ in Vekta City." He checked the rear view mirror. "This is the street right?"

He pulled up in front of our apartment complex. I thanked the sergeant for everything he did for us, including the walk to the elevator.

"No problem. If it makes you feel any safer, I'll have a patrol dispatched out here." He stopped. "Oh, and if you're thinking about flirting your way out of a ticket, it's not gonna work on me." He gave me a smile, waved at us both, and disappeared. I watched him go, feeling much safer having met him.

Some of the neighbors we'd known for years came by to check up on us, including ones who heard what happened. After getting their word they wouldn't tell my parents because I would tell them myself, I crawled into bed. Eva, too frightened to sleep alone, slipped under the covers with me and we spent the rest of a sleepless night talking and trying to forget what happened. Talk inevitably went to Sergeant Wong. I'd like to think she was crushing on him, but then again I'm sure Dad would have a hell of a time trying to keep her from dating an older man, much less a man in uniform. At the very least her birthday wish came true.

School the next day was out of the question; a nice quiet day at home with Eva was in order.

That night I dreamt of guns firing.

When I woke up, I still wanted one.

But where could a girl get her hands on one?


	6. The Rescue

_The Rescue_

"…corporal. Hey corporal. Come on... die on me."

"Hey I think she's coming to... saw her eyes open."

"...it! That was a close one! Keep firing!"

"...gift from the Emperor!"

I came to thanks to my good buddy, Pain. The jarhead slapping the side of my head wasn't helping matters. Swiping his hand away brought a smile to his face. It was my old friend from the adventure with the buggy. He was a total mess; a good length of his cheek had been sliced open and was bandaged up with makeshift gauze. He still wore his cracked helmet and his uniform was bloody and riddled with torn seams where bullets grazed him.

"Good to see you prefer the land of the living, corporal."

"Death wasn't ready for this bitch." He handed me the rifle even before I had a chance to try and get up. "What if I can't stand up, private?"

"You should be able to." He ducked as bullets punched into the wall a few feet above us. "If not, try your damnedest; the Higs are breathing down our necks." He reached for his rifle and offered his hand. "Come on, corporal; I gotchu."

I reached for his hand and felt myself lifted with little effort. Pain eased for now, I inched my way out from the emptied building with the private on my tail. I made it toward the middle of the line where I found my second in command launching a grenade from his G-Pack. I always wondered why we got rid of the grenade tube when it was so effective in the older model rifle.

_We didn't get rid of the glorified spitball; only the RRF were ever able to handle 'em and when the RRF died so did the G-Pack._ The words of my old D.I. from Basic came back to haunt me. Only a few grizzled veterans of the RRF remained, and of them only Colonel Templar kept up the fight.

I heard the bang as the grenade hit target, taking at least two Helghast by the sounds of their screams. Smoke trailed from the launcher as the PFC slipped back behind cover and reloaded. He spotted me on the approach and grinned.

"Welcome back to Helghan, corporal! Hope you got a chance to put in a good word with the Lord for me."

"How many?"

He stopped, confused for a second by the meaning of my question. Once he got it his smile weakened.

"The pilot of the Intruder bought it along with the gunner. Still have a couple snipers perched topside; all they did was fall back to a new hard point. EXO's down, period. Comms have been kinda jerky since the crash so you might want to check yours."

"And the Higs?"

"Took out a chunk of them in the last few minutes but they're starting to get wise to our snipers. We need backup or they're gonna roll over us."

The hellish fire of a StA3 brought our heads down.

"I'll call for new blood. Keep your fire concentrated; save the frags for those Stovas." The screech of rockets as they punched short of our lines alerted me to the presence of a WASP launcher in the vicinity.

"Sonuvabitch, those snipers better get sight of that WASP!"

"You got it, corporal!" The PFC was on the bounce and ordered the snipers to concentrate their fire on the WASP. He peeked over cover, slunk back down, and waited to take his shot with the Stova. As the grenade thumped out of the tube, I clicked on my headset. There was heavy traffic from the other survivors, specifically from a voice I recognized as Captain Narville's. So Avenger Convoy was still intact.

"Mayday, Mayday! We need assistance!" My shouts could have gone unnoticed thanks to the WASP missiles hammering our line. "I repeat: Mayday! This is Jammer, over! Can anyone hear us?!"

Tracers whittled away at the steel girders behind our lines. A bullet ricocheted and hit one of my guys in the leg. He swore but kept his rifle fixed on the enemy. Another one of my men slipped back into the trench, a bullet through his neck. The closest man pulled him away from the line, leaving a trail of blood behind. More WASP missiles were hurled in our direction; whoever manned the weapon was wicked fast in his reloading but piss-poor in his aiming. It seemed like an eternity of wounded, hellfire missiles and bullets before I received an answer.

"My name is Sergeant Velasquez. I can hear you, over!"

"Oh thank God!" Thank God indeed; I was speaking to a member of Alpha Squad. "We're in quadrant four-four-one! We've been cut off and we need assistance!"

The voice in my head replied with due haste. "All right, stay calm Jammer. Send me your exact coordinates and we'll come get you!"

Narville's voice cut into the feed and rained on my parade.

"That's a negative, Velasquez! Jammer: hang tight! Intruders are on their way." The promise of Intruders made his denying Velasquez the rescue op a bit less distressing. To the sergeant he added: "You have your orders, Velasquez; stick to the plan and clear the path to the extraction point now!"

The feed cut as the ground trembled. The increasing pitch of plasma-based charging reached my ears. I followed the sound with my sight until I spotted it: a mech larger than anything produced on Vekta. Its inverted pyramid head held a moving arm I found out was some kind of arc-cannon. It aimed and fired at one of the cruisers with a solid beam of what could have been Petrusite. The beam slammed against dispersive armor powerful enough to withstand a barrage from an entire armored division. Feeling more at ease, I slid next to the PFC.

"Intruders should be on their way. Keep an eye out for them." The WASP continued its relentless salvo. "And for God's sake tell those snipers to aim straight or I'll point them out to the WASP!"

"Roger!"

And with those kind words the battle was back on. The Higs kept us ducking with StA52 and StA11 fire. The Stovas continued their outbursts, plugging one of my men full of holes. As he bled out another trooper took his spot with the answer to the StA3: the M224-A1. He carried this double-edged sword into battle with deadly efficiency, taking out two chalks of Helghast troopers before he ducked to reload.

I heard the unique assault rifle-like burst of the LS57 SMG a couple of guys down. The "baby M82" as we liked to call it engaged an Advanced Shock Trooper and his StA11. The LS57 had the advantage of being more accurate at range but lacked the stopping power of its Helghan counterpart. In the end range is what mattered and the marine with the LS57 won the day. He moved on to the next target and sprayed the rest of his clip into the Shock Trooper.

Three minutes passed without a sign of the rescue op. I checked my weapons. M4 still had two clips and M82 had plenty of ammo. I could hold out a bit longer. The familiar ghastly moan of a Hig dropship circled above. The WASP fire continued. I tried contacting the snipers but received no reply. When they bought it I had no idea, but I knew the WASP wasn't gonna take itself out. I called my second in command over.

"Listen: take two and try to get on the roof." I pointed to a three story structure whose windows had been shattered by the nuke's shockwave. They would be exposed but I'd rather run the risk than have us be beaten into submission or become prisoners for all of four minutes under the Helghast. Another WASP barrage choked us with dust and green vapor.

"Erskine, Choy, on me; we're gonna take out that WASP!"

Two men fell in behind the PFC and darted for the building after I gave the order to cover them. Flashes from both sides lit up the cracks on the exteriors of the buildings. The turret of an HGH Heavy Tank provided cover for one of their riflemen. He sent one to the chest of another rifleman. The LMG gunner on our end poured enough lead for two Helghast onto the rifleman. The Hig managed to escape the volley but ended up tripping over the edge of the turret and faceplanted in the street. One of his stupider comrades raced out from cover and we were allowed to witness a rare feat: a Helghast growing enough of a heart to save a comrade when the others wouldn't. I whipped out the Teslite grenade I snatched from the Shock Trooper let it fly in their direction. Dozens of tiny arcs lit up the street while the Hig screams melted into gurgles.

My headset fizzled as the PFC made contact. "Up on the roof now, corporal. Snipers have been dead a good while. Ah shit, they're outta ammo."

I groaned inside. "Forget it; use the G-Pack. Give the WASP a taste of his own medicine!"

The weapon in question overshot the line. The rockets landed in the structures surrounding the rear of our line. The dust swept in from behind and obscured our vision along with the Helghast's. And yet the bastards kept firing.

I heard the thump of the launcher and the follow up. A few dozen explosions tore up their line as a couple of the rockets hit the dropship right in the engine. The vessel spun wild, slamming into the balconies and overhangs of the structures lining the street before hitting the building where my PFC was stationed. I looked to the flaming wreckage on the rooftop where seconds before three of my men were laying down the payback.

"Ochoa, Erskine, Choy; do you copy!" No reply. The WASP was taken out but now I was left with six men, including an LMG running low on ammo. We were out of frags and without so much as a Thumper to hold the enemy back. I ducked behind cover and tried to contact Narville.

"Captain Narville: this is Jammer. Do you read? Our platoon is pinned down by heavy enemy fire! No sign of Intruders! Do you copy?" No reply. "Damn it! Captain Narville: we cannot stay here. Where are those Intruders?!"

"This is Narville." _About frickin' time! _"I'm sorry; if they didn't make it, there's no one else I can send."

Angered? No. Frustrated? Getting warmer. In a worse mood than a sinner on Judgment Day? Bingo. One of my men was sent to his Maker, boosting my rage to a level equal to when the L.T. died. And thinking about that only served to make it worse.

"I'll go!"

Sergeant Velasquez came in loud and clear. Way he talked it was as if he was a one man army. Still; beggars can't be choosers and even one man could turn the tide of battle. Before I had a chance to accept, Narville cut me off.

"Velasquez! Stand down and stick to your orders!"

"Fuck your orders! I didn't come here to run from the Helghast. I don't leave people behind." To me: "Hold on, Jammer: I'm coming!"

"Velasquez, stand down! Stand down, goddamnit!"

Narville's orders went unheard. And I went ignored save for the lone sergeant who would probably end up dead before he ever got here. Alpha he may have been, but he was one gun against an entire planet. To top it all off, the first of the cruisers began to take off as the mech continued to down them. Another one of my men bought it with the approach of yet another Helghast dropship. Even with these odds I was too proud to shit myself. I loaded a fresh clip in my rifle and decided I would go down fighting better than the men around me. The dropship did not unload passengers but dropped a single large container.

A bullet grazing my arm was a painful reminder of my mind needing to focus on the immediate danger. I lifted the rifle and fired back at the Helghast. Several stopped to reload. I aimed for their rising heads and decked them. The LMG gunner had long stopped firing, leaving us without a steady stream of bullets to pick off the brave or stupid souls who disregarded the blanket of suppressive fire. I tried the comms again. Nothing; just chatter from Narville urging every survivor to get to a pre-set extraction point, a party I was going to miss thanks to him. Then the radio went dead. Silence. The crackling of the rifles gave way to the cold stillness of the fear freezing me from the tips of my feet to the pit of my gut. It was deafening silence; people who wanted every day to be quiet would change their minds if they heard what I couldn't hear.

An explosion of steel ended the silence. The weapon fired again, stripping the steel from the girders behind us. My curiosity got the better of me and I peered over my cover to see what evil was coming our way. It was a giant of a man decked in a combat suit with armor so thick bullets rolled right off him. He didn't rush our position but let the lead he sent tear up our cover. He strafed from one end to the other, keeping us pinned as his comrades pushed on.

"It's a Heavy," one of my men managed to holler before his head, helmet and all, melted off his body. So it had a name after all. I reached over and snagged the clips from his rifle. He taped them jungle style and one of them was almost empty. Whatever works, I guess. I kept my head down as the Heavy continued his laughter in between shots from his chain gun.

"Don't leave me standin' here! Come out to play, ISA scum." His laughter melted into the next volley.

Boots to my left alerted me to the presence of another trooper. I turned my rifle to a man wearing the uniform of the Legionnaires, specialized groups organized by the late Colonel Templar and divided into teams: Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and Epsilon. They were the baddest of the bad, one-man armies who were willing to eat lead for a chance to chew on a Hig's eyeballs. The man came packing an M224-A1. Stripes on his arms: sergeant. Those stripes didn't stop me from disregarding rank for the brief moment the rifle pointed at him.

"Who the fuck are you?"

He didn't even flinch. "Sergeant Velasquez. I came to get you out of here!" He sidled over to me. He was a big boy but moved gentle as a kitten behind cover. "You Jammer?"

I nodded, lowering the rifle and giving him a quick salute. "Corporal Robles, but Jammer works. Just you, sergeant?"

"Looks like you're gonna need some help taking out that Heavy." No time for formal introductions, no handshakes or the like. It was straight to business. I liked the boy already. He looked at the men left with me and scanned the boulevard, focusing on the buildings lining the corridor flanking the Heavy. He leaned back into cover.

"Alright, this is how it's gonna go down: you three try and draw its fire. Aim for the head and keep shooting while Jammer and I flank him. Don't let him catch sight of us on either side of the street or it's your asses taking him out on your own, got it?" He turned to me. "Jammer: take the right approach. Soon as these guys manage to get the Heavy to spin around, aim for the tanks on his back. I'll be on the left in case he gets wise to you." He put a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Teamwork, alright?"

I nodded, not knowing if the plan was going to work. Something in his voice told me to trust him so I did. I grabbed another magazine and picked up the ownerless LS57. I slung the rifle over my shoulder and carried the SMG into battle. The sergeant picked up an extra cartridge from the deceased LMG gunner and nodded to me. I acknowledged and as soon as he called out for cover fire I sped off towards the safety of the pillars. I spotted the sergeant on the other side. His voice came in low on the radio.

"Jammer, don't give away your position until we're within range."

The fire from our lines pelted everything on the Heavy but his head. He let his gun rip and sent a wall of depleted uranium shells back at our guys. Velasquez and I moved from pillar to pillar, never once catching the Heavy's attention. The burnt out wreckage of a car at the next pillar was enough cover. I hugged it, eyeing the Heavy while the sergeant scolded the men on the line.

"I said at the head! Shoot the head!"

The bullets became concentrated wasp stings gnawing at the Heavy's helmet. The big boy spun around, staggering but building up enough strength to turn right back. Without thinking I did as told and aimed for the glowing red tanks on his back. I fired in controlled bursts. Concentrated vapor escaped from the holes in the containers. The Heavy spun around. He was too slow; I slunk back against the car. He edged his way toward me, his gun trying to bleed my ears dry. I held out against the ringing and slipped further down the street behind him. Another lucky bullet managed to catch and spun him around.

He spotted me and tossed a few grenades from the launcher slung under his gun. I sped between the pillars fast as I could, ducking low as the bullets whittled the top half of the pillar down to its iron skeleton.

"I will tear your spine out with my teeth!"

His demonic pitch was intensified by the grenades punching holes in the walls around me. My heart shook in my chest with every step he took toward me. I made the stupid mistake of exposing one of my arms. I had barely enough time to roll away from the burst he sent my way. I slipped back behind the car, bullets pounding the burnt out carcass.

"Hold on Jammer!" The burst of LMG fire forced the Heavy to change direction and target the sergeant.

"Consider your skull ground to dust," the Heavy growled and spun round to the sergeant. Velasquez stood in place, drawing the tank's fire away from me.

"Now Jammer!"

His voice snapped me back and I sent another burst into the vapor erupting from the tanks. They still didn't explode but the Heavy did a left face and stepped backward, keeping both of us in his sights. He sent short bursts at either of us then a grenade at the sergeant. Boy was crazy if he thought the sarge was a greater threat than me. Sure, he had a bigger gun but I had speed on my side.

"Cover me, sergeant."

"Wait, what're you-?"

I dashed out from cover. The bullets were catching up to me from behind. He stopped and led me on for a bit before he sent rounds at me from the opposite direction. I slipped, landing on my butt and narrowly avoided being splattered all over the walls.

The Hig's taunts brought me back to my feet and at a dead run toward the next pillar. The LMG fire came closer to my position; the sergeant was running and gunning. You'd better be aiming for the damn tanks, I prayed. The Heavy's rapid steps in my direction had me back up on my feet and racing back the other way. This threw him off as I heard the great foot beats speed up to slow him down.

"Hold still you cu-arrgh!" He groaned as the sergeant nailed him in the head. I turned the SMG back on him and together we ruptured the tanks. The ogre went up in a flaming mushroom before slamming face first into the asphalt.

"Hell yeah!" I heard the sergeant's voice slip past the pillars as he made his way out towards the street. Once it was safe I followed suit, approaching him near our kill. He looked over to me with a smile.

"You are one crazy lady."

"So I've been told. Thanks for your help, sergeant." I smiled back. I felt because I had cheated death before some bragging rights were merited. "I mean, I could have taken him myself but why break a sweat?"

He looked at me with raised eyebrow and shook his head. "Right. Then I guess you can hump it out of here on your own." He turned around and began the dash away from me.

"Wait, don't go!" My plea stopped him instantly. His chuckling drew the fire out from me.

"Man, I was just playin' with you. Come on; I got my buddy Sev holding Narville down for us. Double time it or we won't make it!"

"I could say the same about you."

He ignored my comeback and called the others out from cover. We all fell in as he led us through winding streets paved with rubble. Debris continued to rain from the shapeless cloud blackening with the approach of nightfall. We stepped over bodies, both ISA and Helghast, as their battleships overtook our cruisers in a replay of the earlier sortie by the Helghast air force. The mech continued to piss bad news up at the _Dauntless_. The armor held and I found myself saying a "Hail Mary" for the ships.

"This is Sergeant Velasquez! Calling all units: hold position until our arrival. ETA five minutes!" No reply.

"This is Jammer calling Captain Narville! Do you read, captain?" It was worth a try; it's too bad it came up fruitless.

"It's no use. Comms are down."

"Then how do we know your buddy's keeping the Captain on the ground?"

"Because I trust Sev and he's the only one Narville'll listen to after..." He stopped.

"After what?"

"Nothing. Just double time it!"

"Do we have Visari?"

The question slowed him down a bit but didn't stop him. For a big guy he sure knew how to move quickly. The rest of us had some trouble catching up to him, even with his LMG adding considerable heft to his weight. He trudged a bit slower and I caught up with him.

"Sarge, please tell me we managed to get Visari."

"Situation's complicated. I'll tell you once we get on the Intruders. Now hustle!"

He increased his speed as did I. We found ourselves on one of the main highways snaking through the city. We passed up shattered EXOs, armor aflame and bodies twisted in ways I didn't think possible. If I had my camera I would have taken pictures. Why? Just to frighten the stupid ones from joining up. What I wish I could transport in a jar was the smell: burning flesh and hair, feces and urine, and blood both free flowing and congealed. If the pictures couldn't cut it then the smell would surely stop 'em dead. One trooper with his head blown open made my hand go to the pouch where the mementos of Lieutenant Wong were stored. No time to stop and dwell; we were within sight of the Intruders, or so Velasquez said.

One of our guys had a tough time keeping up. He had tripped earlier, his leg being sliced open by a loose metal plate from one of the EXOs. One of the other guys carried him along as we came to an empty patch of highway. The skeleton of what was once a skyscraper lay disheveled by the side of the road. From behind it we saw the blue flames and heard the familiar whir of the Intruders. The sergeant's arms went up into the air, LMG and all.

"HEY! HEEEYYY!" The Intruders circled around to pick us up but their eyes in the sky must have caught sight of the same thing our eye on the ground did.

"Get to cover," the trooper pointed to the fast approaching cruiser. The craft was ablaze and losing the battle with gravity fast.

"Fuck, it's the _Compulsion_!" The sergeant raced away from falling craft, leading us further down the highway. The ship went down hard. The shockwave threw us over the edge of the broken overpass and into the rubble below. Dust choked us as the ensuing fireball sucked the oxygen out of the air. I covered my mouth with my hands, letting the SMG slide down the rubble of the overpass as Narville came through on the feed.

"This is Captain Narville contacting all surviving personnel: retreat to emergency fall back locations! I repeat: emergency protocol five-niner-echo is in effect!"

"We're dead," one of my men added.

One more feed: "God help us."

If I didn't know better, I'd say there was no such thing as God on Helghan.


	7. God is in the Rain

_God is in the Rain_

Rain pretty much sums up the next couple hours.

The acid rain of Helghan, strong enough to melt the paint off girders and strip the bark from trees yet still provided the soil with some sort of sustenance rapped the top of the overturned eighteen-wheeler we made our bivouac. We were soaked to the bone and couldn't keep our teeth from chattering, much less ignore the gnawing hunger. Even an MRE would have been good eating.

I sat near the entrance of the cargo hold on watch for the next couple of hours. A few dropships passed over the crumbled highway followed by a pack of Troop Carriers. They slunk further down the overpass, looking very much like jungle cats stalking prey. The last of them scurried along as lightning and wind slapped sheets of rain against the side of our makeshift shelter. I kept my rifle close as heavy footfalls from the end of the trailer approached. I glanced over to see Sergeant Velasquez skulking out of the shadows, LMG still in hand. He sat across from me, lightning illuminating a face troubled by hidden regrets.

"How are the men holding up, sarge?" It was the best I could do to get the ball rolling.

"Fine. They're all getting some sleep except for your buddy Andrews there." He pointed over to the marine who had taken out the dropship with me. The man shivered in his sleep, uttering nonsense induced by a nightmare I really wanted to see.

"He's a tough guy. You know he helped me take out an Overlord without explosive ordnance?"

"No shit? How'd you do it?" His surprise was genuine.

"Minigun. Put a few thousand rounds in the cockpit and it was as good as gone. I was driving the jeep, of course." I had to give myself some credit.

"Good job." His mind was everywhere but there.

"What's up, sergeant? You look like you've got some troubles on your mind." I sat up to keep from sliding off the wall. Thunder shook the walls of the cargo bay. "Did something happen with Visari?"

"It's nothing. He's dead and we're fucked because of it."

"W-wait. Did you say he's dead? How did _that_ happen?!"

"Didn't I just say 'it's nothing'? A lot of people died today, Jammer. I'm not about to take the blame for more of them." He stood up, ready to evade an interrogation. "When this storm's over, I'm gonna scout ahead for more survivors."

I disregarded his last statement. "You were at his palace, right? Did he do himself in? Did he order one of his troops to do it or did they overthrow him at the last minute?"

"Drop it, corporal."

"With all due respect, sergeant: I gotta know. I'm as deep in this as you are, what with the fleet leaving us stranded and-"

"You have _no_ idea just how deep I really am." He looked out into the rain. "And you never will, so do me a favor and obey the order to keep your damn mouth shut."

I know he did not just go there_._ I disliked sergeants with a passion; one of my buddies from boot camp summed them up nicely:

"They don't have mothers; just ask any trained private. They reproduce by fission, like all bacteria."

We called our D.I.'s "germs" afterward and one of the cadets even got wise and said it to a D.I.'s face; long story short, he didn't have much of a face later. We never again referred to them as "germs" but the idea lingered as we were assigned to our units and I drew the Transportation Corps as a pilot. My math skills were my saving grace but the sergeants were still there and as nasty as before. I guess you can't avoid them, those noncom types; they were boots just like you and it made you sympathize with them even during chewing-out sessions. I felt a kinship with them since I was technically a noncom but that kinship was being put to the test by this one sergeant who, despite having saved my life and those of my men, managed to catch me on a bad day. I stared out towards the rain, feeling his eyes on me for the longest time.

"What?"

"Under your eyes... is it what I think it is?"

The face paint was dripping down my cheeks like runny eyeliner.

"Oh, this. It's face paint."

"I can see that," he replied with a half-chuckle. "You play a little football on the cruiser or back home?"

"No, but my C.O. used to... right before he bought it." My voice lowered and I stared aimlessly out into the rain again. For all I knew the body was lost forever to the clutches of the Helghast. I searched for signs of the mushroom cloud but the storm over Pyrrhus did a good job of cleaning up the evidence.

"He played for SJSU back on Vekta," I continued once I remembered where I was.

"No shit? I had a cousin who went there. I coulda gone but I had to work for a living. Running a restaurant ain't as difficult as it looks; it's worse."

"You owned a restaurant?" I was more doubtful than curious.

"That's right," he said, sounding both a little offended and proud. "Mama V's had the best _arroz con gandules_ in Southside Vekta, maybe all of Vekta City."

"Did you say '_arroz con gandules_'?"

He nodded. "You ever had it before?"

"My mom used to make it once in a while. Pretty tasty dish."

"Nobody could touch my mother's recipe. I had a chance to cook them; drew in the crowds but was still no match for Mama's." He sat back down and leaned against the container wall to reminisce about a better time. "We got crowds every Sunday, especially after church got out. We had them all: assholes, self-righteous pricks, families with seven kids who let 'em run all over the damn place, people who always wanted a free meal with their bitching, and the regulars. As bad as it was it's paradise compared to here."

I shook my head. "I couldn't imagine working in a restaurant, much less running it. My mother was a waitress and she told horror stories about it: horny businessmen, free meals, mixed up orders, and even a hold up. She made me swear on a stack of bibles I would never get into the restaurant business."

He shrugged. "It's not so bad except for the hold ups. Growing up in a rough part of town you knew the people who'd hold you up. Had to beat up the drug dealers in the back of the restaurant too; you'll be surprised how quick you learn to handle a gun when it's pulled on you."

I laughed. "Oh, I know that all too well."

"What? You grew up in a bad part of town too?"

I shook my head. "No, I grew up in Rayhoven East. Went to Alan Shepard University."

"A college girl?" He sounded astonished.

"Don't you have to be one to be a pilot nowadays?"

"It's just I always thought the army and marines were for guys like me who didn't have a future. This was the only way we could break even with the rest of society."

"Let's just say I joined up because of an old friend and some unfinished business and leave it there."

"I fought in Rayhoven during the Hig invasion. Me and Jan."

"You knew Colonel Templar?"

He gave me a look as if I had insulted his mother. "He saved my ass a couple times back on Vekta. Fought with him from Vekta City to the SD Platform to Rayhoven and Sedah and I'd follow him into Hell if he led the team. Only damn officer I could trust."

"I'm sorry about your loss then. I know what it's like to lose a C.O. and a close friend."

"The only people you gotta apologize to are the Helghast for the new asshole I'm going to rip into them." Thunder shook the cargo hold. "Just as soon as this rain lets up. Always hated the rain."

I half shrugged in agreement and looked out at the highway again as I wiped the streaks of paint from my cheeks. A marine close by jerked his head up to keep from face planting in his sleep as another one snuggled up against one of the pallets serving as a makeshift pillow. They were pretty damn tough to try and grab some shuteye in a hellish place like this.

"How'd you lose your C.O.?"

"Come again?" I hoped the question wouldn't surface.

"Your C.O. How did he buy it?"

I averted my eyes. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"We all gotta talk about it sometime."

"But I'd rather forget. I'm sure you wouldn't want to talk about Colonel Templar so soon."

"That's where you're wrong. I could talk about Jan all day. It's because of him the Pretrusite Grid went down."

"Yeah, only for the city to get nuked." I didn't want to be a bitch but being reminded of the lieutenant put me in a foul mood. Were there Helghast about I would've taken it out on them, but Velasquez was my only realistic and unwilling outlet.

"What's your problem, corporal? I'm just trying to pass time." He gestured over to the downpour just outside. "I mean, you can't stare at this all day, can you?"

"As a matter of fact, I can. Unlike you I love the rain."

"Well you're not going out there; I'm not about to lose anyone else."

"You lost a man? Hard to believe." My voice dripped with sarcasm. He didn't detect it, which I would later learn was a blessing.

"It wasn't my fault, but what do you care; you're too busy thinking about your lieutenant."

"At least I'm not the one who messed up with Visari."

"Was it my fault he wouldn't shut the fuck up? I didn't mean to shoot him but goddammit-" He froze.

"Y-you killed Visari?!" I woke everyone in the cargo hold.

"No way, sarge: you killed the son of a bitch?"

"Is that why the Higs are sore as Hell at us?!"

"We're traveling with a freakin' war criminal!"

"Stand down!"

Even though the men questioned their new C.O. they buttoned their lips right quick.

"Anyone of you could have made the same mistake I did if you were in my shoes," he told us. "That bastard cost me everything on Vekta and still had the nerve to talk shit to my face." His confidence began fading as he started thinking how much his short temper had screwed us over. "He didn't deserve to rot in a cell. He got what he deserved. If anyone was gonna plug him full of holes, it should have been me."

"What about us?" I stood up and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "If there was a reason for taking him to Vekta it was to humiliate him; he was counting on someone like you to pull the trigger and make him a martyr and you fell for it."

He stood up in defensive mode. "The man had to answer for everything he did. I only hope he shit his pants after he went down." He spat out into the rain, an act not directed toward me but still managed to piss me off.

"And who the hell are you to decide he had to pay your way: the damn executioner?!"

"Stand down, Jammer-"

"Don't you 'Jammer' me!" I aimed the M82 at him. He aimed the LMG at me. The marines were too stricken with fright to stop either one of us. "I should just assume responsibility of these men and have them detain you."

"Can we do that," one marine asked.

"We shouldn't. The man's a war hero."

"But we're fucked because of him."

"Calm down, corporal," Andrews said in a vain attempt to reach me. I cocked the assault rifle and aimed for Velasquez's throat. The LMG trembled in his hands. The inner struggle played out on his face. My finger pressure on the trigger increased. With one burst I would leave his head dangling from his neck and Visari would be avenged... but then what? Was it worth killing the man who saved our butts earlier in the fight against the Heavy and was willing to guide us to Narville?

Yes. Yes it was. He failed us all. Because he failed to control his temper we lost the initiative and were reduced to running back to Vekta, a plan with little to no guarantee of success. I blamed him for every failure, including the nuke. I was even ready to pin Wong's death on him if I didn't see the LMG lower and his eyes along with it. He sighed and urged me to get on with it.

"I took your right to Visari away; now you have every right to give me what I deserve. You know where the emergency fallback position is, don't you? Take me to Narville and get it over with."

"So that's it? You're giving up, sarge? After all you've been through?"

"If your corporal thinks so, then it is what it is," Velasquez answered the marine.

"We need him, corporal; he knows the Higs better than the rest of us."

Andrews' arguments were weak and I thought about turning the barrel on him; instead, I looked to rest of the men. I had experience in losing guys too; they were all that remained of a full sized platoon. Besides, who was I to judge for my team? I would be making the same mistake the sergeant did with the Autarch.

It took a lot for me to put down the rifle. I felt like I had failed the lieutenant and my squadmates for not taking out the man responsible for their misery.

"Tch!" was all I had to say as I stepped into the rain. Everything was a mess. I just wanted to run from it all.

"What the hell are you doing?" The sergeant's attitude returned.

"I'm going to find Narville. It's not up to me to decide whether you live or die." I looked over to him from under my hood. "It's his."

"Don't be a fool, Jammer. You'll be plugged full of holes before you get off the highway."

I gave him a challenging smile. "There's one thing you and I have in common, sarge: the Higs owe us. I don't plan to die, not before reaching Narville. You and the rest of the men can wait out this little drizzle." Thunder grabbed hold of my insides and shook them as lightning lit up the overpass.

"What are you talking about?"

"What I'm saying is you'll get what you deserve."

I ran. His shouts faded as I darted past hollowed out cars burnt by the fireball. The second I hit the pile of rubble allowing easy access to the ruins beneath the overpass, I leapt into the drenched ruins of the city. It was a stupid decision from the get go but the war no longer had any meaning for me: Visari was dead, the fleet left us behind, Earth would wipe its hands clean of us and fresh Helghast Army Divisions would pour into the city with the winter rain. I didn't care about reporting Velasquez to Narville anymore; I wanted nothing now but to kill more Helghast.

But I wouldn't make a difference no matter how many Higs I actually managed to kill before I was put down. No matter how painful a blow I struck against the enemy, Vincent or Visari would never return. My parents and Eva would never escape the cold grip of Death.

I fell to pieces. I sat against a wall and wept. It was something I hadn't done since before I left Vekta. Back then I couldn't wait to get a hold of the universe's greatest criminal. Now I realized we have ourselves to blame for everything, me and other Vektans who lived their lives without so much as a thought on how we were to blame for the oppression and aggression of the Helghast. The lieutenant's death was no one's fault but my own. My parents and sister suffered because I wouldn't listen. We could have died a family, but I was damned to spend the rest of my life roaming alone and with a heavy heart. On Helghan there was no angel of mercy to ease the suffering.

Then I remembered the rain, and I remembered the Flood. I remembered how God flooded the earth, killing all the unrighteous and sparing the good. I looked to the sky and asked God to flood Helghan so the pain, desperation and all evidence of this nasty little war would be washed away. I pleaded with all my heart.

The rain fell no harder than before. I slid the rifle to my shoulder and pulled out the M4. Beads of rain nestled in the ridges of the hammer and licked the edges of the handle. I stared down the barrel, making the simplest yet hardest decision of my life. I knew it wouldn't turn back the hands of time but I would meet this end regardless. I slipped the barrel under my chin and placed my finger on the trigger. I had to make sure I didn't miss. I couldn't miss. I wouldn't miss.

I heard the lap of the drops on my hood. It was God speaking to me. God was in the rain, begging me to stop. Put the gun down; we can talk this through.

You didn't listen to me before, God. I don't see why I should.

I loved the rain. I saw it as a perfect way to end it all.

I pulled the trigger and heard the bang. And felt nothing. Not the rain. Not God.

Absolutely nothing.


	8. Dodging Bullets

_Dodging Bullets_

"Right, this little number is your M3 Revolver. Fires .357 Magnum spec, improved over the M2 due to its double-action trigger and new tritium sights, lettin' you shoot this beauty in the dark or the rain. Holds six rounds and the redesigned chamber keeps the gun from jammin', but it looks like it might be a little too big for your purse."

The salesman put out his cigar. He was a living example of those gun-toting hicks you see on TV and films; I had to keep myself from busting up when I walked into the store. His neck-length hair was silver-brown, his moustache thick and wiry and his five 'o clock shadow looking more like a beard halfway through its life cycle. The rest of his hair was hidden by a grungy cap with the store's logo printed in bold: **R-EMERGENCE-E**. Strange name for a gun place, but their catchphrase made sense: "If it's not down the first shot, it's on us."

"Six hundred's a little steep for a simple handgun."

For a second I thought the clerk was going to flip.

"Listen to me, little lady: with one bullet this gun can do what takes two bursts of A.R. fire. It can pop a melon just by grazin' it. In fact I took this gun, just this gun, when I went huntin' for them wooly rhinos; took four-count 'em-FOUR of these beauties to take him down." He slid the box of ammunition on the counter in my direction. "And the bastard never got within thirty feet of me, so explain to me now how this gun is so 'simple.'"

I examined the rounds and wondered how something with a tip so small could do something like blow open a cheek and shatter teeth at the same time.

"Well, you lookin' to buy or test?"

What if I liked it? Who was I kidding; I lived for the chance to fire the gun again.

The clerk pulled the pistol out of my hand with a greasy smile.

"Test it is. Follow me to the range, miss." He loaded the chambers of the pistol as he walked. "No charge for the first six rounds; it's five dollars a shot after. Hit only the targets; you pull the gun on anyone or anything other than your target and you'll find out just how close gun owners can be."

He took me through a sliding door into a semi occupied hallway filled with the cracking of pistols, none of which fazed him. "Oh, you'll get used to the noise," he told me. "Of course, if ya don't," he reached over to the rack on the wall just behind the booth where I'd take my shots, "these always come in handy. You're gonna have to get used to the racket if you're thinking of gettin' this for protection. The other feller ain't gonna let you grab your earplugs before you take the shot."

He handed me the earplugs and a set of safety goggles.

"Flash hits pretty bad in this room, 'specially with the tight walls of the booth." He waited until I put both on. My head felt like it weighed ten extra pounds. He mouthed something and I shrugged. He laughed and slapped one of the earplugs. If he didn't have the magnum in his hand I would have clocked him good for it. He handed over the gun and motioned to what was my target: a piece of plywood with a sheet of paper tacked onto it. Instead of the usual "guy armed with a handgun" motif he had a special treat: a stencil of a Helghast.

"I find people shoot better when they're motivated. I'm also an advocate for the prevention of domestic abuse: I do not condone people bringing in photos of their exes, bosses, or general pricks in their lives. I give 'em a common enemy and watch their accuracy and my profits go up."

"I get it, but why the Helghast?" I assumed that was what I said but I couldn't hear myself with all the shooting going on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't see the danger they pose? I s'pose you're one of those… sympathizers, aren't you?"

"I don't like the Helghast but I don't think they're gonna attack us anytime soon." My sentence came out in chunks the clerk pieced together without a hitch.

"You believe what you wanna believe. As for me: I'm gonna be prepared." He pulled out his own handgun and fired without aiming. It was a perfect shot between the goggles. The same greasy smile.

"Go on; educate yourself. You might be surprised how much you learn." The look he gave me made me sweat.

I slid the earmuffs back on and aimed down the illuminated sights. My unsteady hand was something I'd have to work on. I tried holding my breath, but the barrel kept listing to the right. I steadied the revolver one more time and pulled the trigger. The familiar kick to the chest sensation sent a shock through my arms.

The bullet snagged the wall behind my target. Feeling more than a little embarrassed, I tried again. The same kickback and this time one of the corners of the plywood came bursting off. Splinters slapped against the sandbags as the slab rocked back and forth in place. I tried another shot. It punched into the tip of the Helghast's elbow. _Crap_. Three more chances before I became a liability to the clerk.

I heard a muffled sentence from behind. I turned around and slipped the earmuffs off. The clerk was staring with the same creepy grin. I looked away and decided to substitute the clerk in the Helghast's place. I held my breath and tightened my grip. The next bullet slapped into the right shoulder of the target. To my surprise it registered as a hit, sending the board back a few seconds before it rose.

I jumped in the air and screamed at the top of my lungs. All eyes were on me. I stifled my excitement as the clerk tipped his hat to me.

Two shots left. I decided to raise the stakes and go straight for the throat... literally. Aiming for the nozzle on the mask produced images of how he'd swallow the bullet. I took the shot. It blew off his cheek. A quick flash of that night returned as the board collapsed in synch with the punk but unlike him the board picked itself up and challenged me to land the final shot. Not one to disappoint, I aimed for the head and hoped the bullet wouldn't slip through the gaping hole in his face.

Then my mind wandered back to the other night...

It was several weeks after Eva's birthday. My parents had returned from Earth the week before. I waited until they were back into the swing of things before dropping the bomb over dinner.

"I want a gun."

Forks clattered. Everyone gawked at me. My father was the first to regain both his sanity and temper.

"Jimena Adelaide Robles, have you gone out of your mind? Do you want to be a scumbag without a job, ambitions, a future?"

"Calm down, Dad; I go to school and I have dreams. I just want to protect those dreams according to rights afforded to me by the colonial constitution. Is that so wrong?"

"It's not wrong but what is wrong is thinking you need a gun to defend your dreams. Do you think your… brother was protecting his dreams when he killed that teenager?"

"David," Mom cut in, "no more talk about Salvador at this table, understood?" It was tough knowing my parents had disowned Sal, but you'd do the same if your child murdered some innocent kid over a debt. We learned to keep our mouths shut about Sal, hard as it was for us at the beginning, and learned to accept his absence as naturally as waking up or going to the bathroom.

"We still have two good children," Mom continued, "and I'm sure there's a legitimate reason why Jimena's asking this of us." She froze me in place with her eyes. "Please enlighten us on why you believe you deserve this right."

I decided to tell them a half truth. "While you were on vacation, Eva and I... were assaulted coming home from school."

This time both parents shot out of their chairs.

"What," my father screamed. "Why didn't you tell us about this sooner? Were you hurt? Eva?"

My sister raised her hand and assured them she wasn't hurt.

"Someone with a gun managed to stop him," I continued, "but I keep wondering what would've happened to us if he didn't."

"The way you kept this from us is grounds enough for refusal," Dad replied. "What if they managed to get a hold of your weapon?"

"They had a gun of their own-"

"It doesn't mean they wouldn't try and steal yours. What if you missed and hit Eva or yourself? What would have been the point of owning something so vile?"

"Calm down, David. She's not getting a gun and that's final. You shouldn't be having outbursts like these at the dinner table."

"What do you mean 'not'," I cut my mother off. "What are we supposed to do if some murderer breaks into our house? Or worse: what if the Helghast invade? Are you just gonna let them shoot you?"

My father jabbed a finger in my direction. "Don't start bringing up crap; the Helghast will never invade Vekta. For you to even say such ludicrous things makes me question your sense of responsibility, you keeping this assault hidden from us notwithstanding. I should just cut funding for your education so you could continue down this path-"

"David for god's sake, calm down."

"Leave me alone, Amanda; I know what I'm doing."

"Threatening the future of our children makes me believe you're worse off than the girl."

"It's no worse than what Salvador did to this family!" He slammed his fist into the table. Forks and even a glass flew off the table. The cup shattered, glittering the linoleum on the floor with an extra coat of sheen. "I will not tolerate another criminal in this house! If you want a gun so bad, then pack your shit and get out!"

"I said calm down. That's quite enough out of you!"

My mother's snapping made Dad storm out of the kitchen. Once he disappeared, I was left to deal with the cool but more menacing threat she represented. I knew what to expect from Dad, but Mom was an entirely different beast. You could never tell whose side she'd be on; she could start to go one way then throw you for a loop by switching allegiances midway. God forbid you decided to make her your enemy; she'd mop the floor with you and make you think it was for your own good.

Eva tried to slip out of the room unseen.

"Stay put, young lady; you're as much a part of this as your sister." Her eyes never left mine but the silent intensity in her voice was enough to make Eva slide back into the chair with her head down.

"Let her go, Mom. This doesn't concern-"

"I will say who this does or doesn't concern." She put her hand down, hard. Our backs snapped in place.

"Now, it pains me to hear you having to deal with the trauma of being assaulted," she told me. "I had to go through it too when I was Evita's age. I couldn't sleep with the lights out for weeks, my eating patterns were a mess and I even thought about drugs to escape the fear and anger. I felt like society failed me for not keeping the streets clean." She rolled up her napkin and tossed it lightly on her plate. "Never, though, did I once think about going out and buying a gun and do you want to know why? Because your generation is so quick to take the easy way out, no matter how extreme; you're all as anxious to live as you are for others to die. You don't care where the path takes you; you just want to enjoy the ride."

"I don't know where you're going with-"

"Did I say you could speak? Let me tell you something, and this goes for you as well, Eva: yes, it sucks to be a victim, but your father is right. Say you did have a gun and managed to use it properly; what good would it do you to kill someone?"

"What if the cops wanted him dead?"

"It doesn't matter whether the cops wanted him dead or not. The important thing is you could have taken a life, even if it was self-defense, and something like that has consequences. For all we know he could have been on the verge of becoming a responsible adult with a family and a contribution to the betterment of the colony, but you would've denied him everything simply to save yourself. What if you hit a bit of bad luck and found your life in the gutter?"

"I don't plan on failing you or Dad. Besides, he was a creep who deserved what came to him." It made perfect sense to me.

"You don't know that," she raised her voice. "No one except God knows what lies ahead. You can't stand there and tell me you're immune to rotten luck or the winds of change. The only way you're going to get to hold a gun without our permission is if you join the military but you'll be throwing away your future if you do."

"There's no one to fight, Mom! How would it be throwing away my life?" I never questioned why my parents thought this way about the military, but if there was as good a time to question anything it'd be now.

"We're humans, Jimena; we always find someone to fight with. What about those Helghast you mentioned? Even if you were to join the military or have a gun lying around the house you'd still be no match for them." She shook her head. "No, I think civilian life suits you just fine. You'll finish your schooling and you won't own a weapon. End of discussion."

"I'm considered an adult by Vektan society. I think I should be the one making the decision."

"Not as long as you live under this roof you won't. You're our responsibility until you're 25; from then on you can do as you please though don't expect your father and me to smile and nod politely when it comes to certain choices you'll make down the line."

I know she was trying to lighten the mood, but I wasn't having it. "I'm basically yours for the rest of my life, is that it? Maybe you should pick a husband and child out for me, why don't you?"

"That's not what I am saying, Jimena; don't be a smartass. We raised you for success, not so you can give in to your impulses like any brat. You're still a child no matter what society says or expects of you."

"Okay so explain to me why so many adults who aren't lowlifes are able to carry a gun? What do you have to say about the man who saved your daughters?"

"He was lucky to have it on him but that doesn't make him right. This is beside the point-"

"It _is_ the point," I shouted. "I don't want to have to rely on others for protection and I can't always be attached to my PDD with the police on speed dial! As an adult I have to be counted on to make smart and safe decisions, not expect my parents to make them for me." I didn't have these cliché arguments back in high school but I sure was making up for them now. "Look: I've never asked for much from you. You're always there for what I need and you respect a lot of my decisions. Please respect this one."

"Oh you've made a decision? Now tell me: was there input from anyone else before this 'decision' of yours?"

"No, but-"

"Then it's nothing but an impulse and it's fully within my rights to stop you from acting on it."

I was on fire now.

"Fine then! I'll just move out!"

My dad couldn't have picked a better time to step back into the kitchen. He slammed one of the hefty suitcases on the table. Utensils rang and Eva yelped in fright. Even my mother was startled by what she saw. He stared hard at me, his upper lip quivering. He had only shown this face twice before: when I crashed the family car trying to drive it at nine years old and when Sal was arrested. It was petrifying.

"Here," he gestured to the bags, "nobody's stopping you!"

I was done. I stormed out of the kitchen, leaving an "I need a walk" excuse before the sliding door slammed shut behind me. I tuned out my father; he probably said something along the lines of "Don't bother coming back! See if I care!" or "You forgot your suitcase!" In a way I hoped I wouldn't be back; it would take a while to forgive my parents or listen to their "we told you so" lecture.

People walking down the street must have thought me crazy for crying in public but I didn't care; it's not like a girl crying was something new to them. Sirens blared, taking me back to the night of the assault. I guess Eva's wish for the incident to be forgotten was a hopeless one; my parents would never let it die.

I was out for what seemed like hours. The house was dark when I came back except for the overnight kitchen lights. Dad, mad as he was, didn't change the combination on the front door.

The beep from one of the clocks in the living room alerted me to the hour: 10:30. It was too late to mend things; I'd have to wait until morning... if I didn't happen to find all my belongings in the trash and my clothes neatly packed.

I peeked into the kitchen. The dining room table was clean, the floor swept up and the dishes back in the cabinets. It was like the fight never happened. Peace had returned to the Robles household, or so I wanted to believe.

I slipped into my room as quiet as the sandals would allow. I flipped the lights on and found everything as I had left it. The room looked cleaner, in fact; Mom must have ignored our argument enough to pick up the dirty laundry left on the floor, organize the homework on my desk and turn the lamp to the dimmest setting. Even if Dad didn't want me there, Mom expected me. It was a nice gesture that made me feel like a total bitch. I started thinking up an apology as I plopped into bed. I stared at the ceiling fan and thought about turning it on but remembered it was the middle of November.

Restless, I looked over to the girl staring back from the mirror on my closet door. Was she the kind of girl who could be seen with a piece? Was she capable of packing heat and using it without hesitation and more importantly without regrets?

No. She had nothing to prove by it. You've never been one for thrills, I told her. You've been one of the quiet ones as far back as you can remember; the occasional genius, the girl who only ever got detention once a year. Ms. 3.7 GPA...

My aim went south and my arms shook uncontrollably. I tried to fight but it was no use. I lowered the gun and handed it and the safety gear over to the confused clerk. I thought he would try to get cute with me, but he only gave me a concerned look when he saw the fire was gone. He didn't see me out into the cold November afternoon.

I don't know why I choked. The reasons escaped me as I took a seat on the bench just outside. A shuttle stopped and the driver looked to me. I ignored him and he drove off, leaving me to think in the cold autumn air. In the end I picked the "I'm not ready for a gun" option and settled. In all honesty I really wasn't ready; too much was at stake.

I decided to go for some hot chocolate. After such a monumental decision, I figured a treat was in order. It was time to forget my stupid obsession once and for all.

That was the plan, at least.


	9. A Chance Meeting

_A Chance Meeting_

Halfway to the coffee shop Aileen's ringtone blew up my PDD. I dug into my purse and made a mental note to clean it out when I got home. I double-tapped the screen to answer.

"Hey girl, what're you up to?"

"On my way to get some hot chocolate," I shrugged, forgetting I was on the phone. Of course I wouldn't mention the trip to the gun shop; Aileen was as anti-gun as my parents were and if she knew she'd get all bent out of shape. Case in point: she had a mini-panic attack when I told her about the night with the punk. She really was this delicate little flower I had to keep from stepping on every time I messed up.

"Oh, where at?"

"Borloff's off Yuzbin and 23rd. What're you up to?"

"Stuck at work." Gienni's Jewelry, one of the many interplanetary industries serving the colonies and Earth, was Aileen's kindly employer. "I'll be off in about ten. Do you mind stopping by so we can go together? This weather screams hot cocoa."

"Sure, I'll be there in a little bit."

Whistles and hoots from a truckload of ISA troops on a weekend pass cut into our conversation. I rolled my eyes and turned the other way. Their hollering faded down the street.

"Looks like your fan club finally got a hold of you," Aileen giggled.

"Whatever. Even with the uniform there's no way in Hell I'd give any of 'em a chance. Aren't all soldiers supposed to be disciplined?"

"Let them be, Jimena; they've got it rough, and let's face it: you _are_ gorgeous."

"Says who: the fairy godmother?"

"Sheesh, just take the damn compliment." I forgot the delicate little flower had some nasty thorns.

"Alright, I'm sorry. Thanks for the compliment. I'll see you in a bit." Click.

Waiting for the "WALK" sign to flip on, some redhead took her place next to me. Judging from the ISA emblem on her PDD and patch on her sweater vest, she worked for the local government. She was too busy being a yes-woman to the person on the other end of the line to notice the two-foot gap I put between us.

After about a million assurances of "Yes, Ms. Batton," she clicked off the PDD and sighed for the whole world to hear.

I pulled out my PDD to try and look distracted. I never knew how to react around military or Council types. She looked my way and sighed again.

"Hmm," I faked being interested to get her off my back.

"Oh, it's nothing. Can I ask you something?"

"I guess."

"Are you in school?"

"…yes."

"Good. Don't ever think about applying as an assistant for a Council scientist."

"I don't plan on it," I replied and tried to end it. I'll be damned if she didn't want the subject to die.

"Oh yes, the Council does like to keep me busy. You managed to catch me on an off day though; it's always a relief to come back to the world of civilians after weeks of speaking with military types. Here I'm the one who gets a 'yes ma'am' instead of the other way around."

"I guess that'd feel good. My family doesn't like the military so I really couldn't tell you about any experiences I've had."

The same truckload of soldiers drove past. I thought I was home free until one of them remembered me. The rest jumped in and cat-called me and the intern.

"Well, there's one experience you don't have to tell me about." It was the most natural thing I heard said all day and I couldn't help but hold back a laugh.

"So, what troubles do you have not involving the fate of the colonies or humanity's progress through the stars?"

"Come again?" Defensive mode switched on. "What makes you think I've got problems?"

"I'm a personal assistant, dear; it's my job to take notice of the details, even if I have to get on my hands and knees to see them." She cracked her neck. "Besides, you can't tell me you don't have at least one thing bothering you."

"Right now it's you," I wanted to say but kept my mouth shut. "It's not much to talk about compared to what you've got on your plate. Is she always like this?"

"Who, Ms. Batton? No, but she's been under a lot of stress lately, what with this secret defense project of hers—" She slammed on the brakes and pulled into reverse. "—that you never heard mention of, moving on."

I noticed the M4 pistol holstered on her belt. It was surprising to see a Council employee carrying a weapon in public.

"You like it," she asked once she caught me eyeing the gun. "Because I sure as heck don't. It's such a burden carrying this thing around; it draws more attention to me than I'd like."

"Do you know how to shoot it?"

She shrugged. "I try. I'm getting better but it's still pretty tough to fire it as fast as they'd like. If it wasn't for the damn recoil..."

"You wanna talk recoil? Try firing a magnum."

"Oh don't even get me started on those. Why do you think I'm stuck with this one? I admit this one has its flaws but nothing can prepare you for that revolver." She gave me a look. "You know how to shoot?"

"Yeah. What; I'm not allowed to?" Little miss attitude came out of nowhere. Okay, maybe not out of nowhere but I didn't like her tone.

She lifted a hand. "Easy there; I didn't mean any harm by asking. I'm just surprised someone like you would be interested in something so violent. I'm going on a limb here: your first experience with one was less than satisfactory."

I shrugged. "Is any first time ever satisfactory?"

"Depends on your mode of thinking. I'd always assumed those working with the Council had the right to carry a gun, but who'd have thought it was mandatory? I can understand what with all the threats being thrown our way by the Helghast, and with funding to the blockade of Helghan being diverted elsewhere we might fall into some pretty scary times."

"Do 'Ms. Batton' and her secret project have anything to do with all this?"

The assistant puffed up. "Under authority of the Council it is my duty to caution you not to make inquiries of any kind regarding classified information."

"Alright. What can you tell me about the situation on Helghan?"

"I know as much as you do." She leaned in. "There's not much leeway when you become an assistant."

As if I didn't notice. "From what I hear Visari has it in for us."

"Only time will tell," she replied. "Why won't this stupid sign switch to 'WALK'?"

"It was at 'WALK' a minute ago."

"Are you serious?" She checked her PDD. "Crap, I'm gonna be late."

"I thought this was an off day for you?"

"It's not until I get Ms. Batton her Chai-infused Cuban pull. For some god-awful reason she wants me to run halfway across town to grab it for her before the lunch rush." She fumbled with her PDD and ended up dropping it. It would have landed in the gutter, but lucky for her I managed to snatch it in time. She looked me over and rubbed her chin_._

"Those are some great reflexes. Tell me: how's your math?"

Math? I decided to go along with it. Maybe I'd get lucky and be offered a job working for the Council. "Calculus."

"Science?"

"Well, Physics but I don't-"

"You ever thought about becoming a pilot?"

"How'd you come up with that?"

"Like I said: details are my job."

In all honesty, piloting used to be dream job; my early years in Dad's office at the shuttle repair docks in Vekta City left an impression on me. I liked to play with leftover pieces of shuttles, and every year for my birthday I'd ask to take a ride on a shuttle and every year I'd end up being disappointed.

"It was a dream of mine, but my parents convinced me engineering was the way to go."

"I think you could do it with those reflexes. Then again you'd make a good ball player, a terrific dancer or an adequate sharpshooter." She leaned in a little too close. "Be honest with yourself for a second: do you really want to be an engineer or do you still dream about being a pilot?"

"Well, my dad-"

"No outside influences. Your future is your decision alone."

"Well… yeah, I still think about it once in a while, but I've taken all these classes in preparation for engineering school; I can't just up and tell my parents I wanna give it all up to be a pilot. They already went ballistic when I told them I wanted to get a gun, but that dream's pretty much dead; otherwise I'd have spent my money on something I'd probably never use anyway."

"Oh, I wouldn't say you'd never have to use it but you still haven't answered my question: do you want to be a pilot?"

The girl was poking a little too close to home. "Why do you care about what happens to some stranger you met at a crosswalk?"

"Simple: I don't want you to make the same mistake I did thinking an internship under a scientist would be an easy way to get on the Council. If I knew then what I know now, I could have been a licensed esthetician this very moment."

"So you just go around trying to solve everyone else's problems?"

"Yes," she replied matter-of-factly. "You can't blame me for wanting to live vicariously through everyone who actually takes my words to heart."

"Yeah, but don't you think it's a little intrusive?"

"Maybe so, but it's not like I'm telling you what you should or shouldn't do."

Not like my parents. Suddenly I wanted to answer the intern's question.

"Yes, I want to be a pilot."

"Then what are you doing not chasing your dream? Your parents may disapprove but in the end they still love you no matter what. If you change your mind about the gun, make sure you grab one of these." She patted the M4. "As bad as it is, it sure as hell beats the revolver." She looked at her PDD. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a scientist up the past 96 hours waiting for coffee." She waved and dashed across the street, her PDD screaming in her hand.

I could have followed her and met Aileen and Borloff's. I could have but the fact is I didn't.

What I did do was ring up Aileen. "Hey, sorry I can't make it to Borloff's; something came up. Wanna try again some other time?"

"I'd wish you told me before I froze my butt off waiting for you. Where the heck are you anyways, girl?"

"I promise I'll explain everything over hot cocoa on Friday if you're still up to it. My treat."

"Fine, but you better not stand me up again."

"If I do, you have the right to kick my ass."

We said our goodbyes. I headed back to the gun shop to finish what I started.


	10. Dead City

_Dead City_

The click came in clear as rain was wet. I pressed the trigger again. Still nothing. I tossed the gun away and rested my head on my knees.

God wanted me to live. Why remained a mystery. Maybe God was a Helghast sympathizer and sent His Chosen People to wipe us out. I couldn't blame him; our government did some pretty nasty stuff to the Helghans in the past.

The Helghast may have been my enemies, but I couldn't help feeling a little bitter toward the Terran government. In fact, if it hadn't been for their greed, Visari probably would have never come into the picture. Sure, Terra lent us the New Sun, the best ship of its class; they gave us the weapons to do the job, but the most important thing they didn't lend was their hearts; Visari was something Vekta had to deal with alone. The only thing the Terrans cared about was getting their damn resources which is why they even bothered sending a fleet to Vekta during the Helghast Invasion. They left the dirty work to us colonists. They sent engineers and administrators to help with the rebuild, sure, but their policies were Earth-centric and didn't help much in the long run while we reformed our military for the revenge strike on Helghan.

I looked up from the wet darkness when the purr of an engine filled the alley. I slipped behind a dumpster, taking in the smell of moist and exotic Helghan trash while scoping out the scene. Hig infantry followed the vehicle. Basic Assault Infantry, including patrol-capped platoon sergeants. StA52s, StA3s, and a StA11 rounded out the list of hardware. A pair of Pyro Troopers moved ahead of the patrol to light up every other building. One of them laughed as he sent the urine-like stream of flame down the alley. It stopped short of the dumpster but even in the rain the heat was nauseating. I held my ground for as a long as I could before the Pyro Trooper rejoined the patrol. I snatched my pistol and ducked into the ruins behind me. Streams of water formed miniature rapids on the stairs leading up to the third floor.

The rumble of another APC pulling to the side of the road echoed off the rubble. I made my way back down to the more exposed second floor and ducked behind a desk punched full of holes. I cocked the M82, hoping the rain didn't jam it like my pistol. One of the platoon sergeants barked orders to the small group of men near the front door. The patrol capped Hig stepped into the APC and disappeared, leaving a chalk behind to gather round and shoot the breeze. Curious about what Higs had to say about anything, I parked my rear and tried to listen in over the rain on the rafters.

The corporal got the ball rolling. "How long do you think the ISA out there'll last?"

"I give 'em till tonight tops."

The leader of the group turned to a Pyro Trooper burning the building behind and to the right of the chalk.

"Hey, hows about you quit burning tat like an idiot and light something worthwhile?" The irritated soldier picked up a burnt out drum and dropped it in the middle of the circle. One of the other members of the chalk reached for something on the first floor I missed: a corpse.

"Here; gonna need fuel." A flash of lightning helped me identify the body: a Vektan marine. Her face was split open, arteries dangling like multicolored noodles from her face. The Helghast dumped her into the drum and stood back while the flamethrower did its thing. The drum cast shadows on the rubble surrounding the street. The chalk cheered as the body withered. I covered my ears to block out the crackling and popping of fat and blisters.

"Vektans: they plump when you cook 'em." The other Helghast laughed.

It was stupid to take on a chalk with the APC in earshot. A grenade would be quicker but it'd also be louder, and if the Pyro Trooper survived I'd be roasted alive before I had a chance to know what hit me. All I could was sit back and listen to more of their bullshit and tell myself it was a bad idea to leave the others behind.

"How do you guys think Old Blood n' Guts is handling the situation?"

"You mean Orlock?" I heard the thump of a fist against a helmet.

"No shit, Sherlock. Who else would I be talking about?"

"Well no need to get your knickers in a bunch," the hurt soldier shot back.

"I think he's the new Autarch guys."

"You serious?"

One of the other soldiers laughed. "No one 'ill ever replace Visari."

"The Senate will find a way. There'll be one victory for the Northlanders."

"Bloody stupid swine. I'd say Orlock is the only good out of the lot of 'em, and that's not saying much."

"What about Easterners?"

"Bloody prima donnas and drama queens."

"I concur." The Higs paused to check their weapons.

"Isn't Stahl an Easterner?" The Hig scratched an itch on the back of his shin with his boot.

"My point exactly. Scrawny little industrial fuck. I'll shoot myself before I follow him as Autarch."

"His father's factories helped save our nation, you know?"

Another thwack on the helmet. "Visari saved our nation, you dumb shit."

"And I'd sooner follow a dead man than a live one with a private army."

"You got that right."

"God bless Visari."

"Agreed. And God piss on the rest of us for staying behind with Bloody Guts and Skinny Britches."

"Maybe it won't be so bad." There was always the naïve soldier who tried to look on the bright side.

"Psh!"

The wide-eyed soldier buttoned his lip.

"Say: wasn't Tycho an Easterner?"

"I seem to recall so."

The corporal shrugged. "I guess he was all right out of all of them. What was Visari?"

"Pure Centrist," the Pyro Trooper cut in, "Him being Pyrrhic and all that. Normally they've shit for brains and wallets for guts but he was the exception."

"And Lente?"

"What about Lente? He was bollocks."

"Wasn't Metrac Pyrrhic too?"

"Yeah, but Cobar was Southlander. Radec too. Think all us Southlanders have trouble breathing."

"You're the hardest to train, but at least you have a real reason to wear these." The Helghast speaking pointed to the tube on his mask.

"Pyrrhics have the easiest go as do Westerners. Why do you think half of all Elites were Westerners and half the officer corps is Pyrrhic?"

The rocket strapped to one of the Higs made me jump. My head slammed into desk. Heads turned. I slipped under the table and fingered the hilt of my knife.

"Wait. What was that?"

"Alik, go see what it was." The rest of the men pushed the buck private into the building.

"Wait, how's about I burn them out?" The Pyro Trooper sounded eager.

"How's about you shut up and follow orders," the corporal growled.

The Pyro Trooper pointed to the stripes on his arm. "Same rank."

"Not for long if you don't shut your trap."

"To Hell with it. I can't be arsed to burn every building I see anyway."

Time to move back up to the third floor. I had just enough time to make it up the stairs before the private appeared on the second floor and knelt by the desk.

"Bloody miner's son," the Pyro Trooper laughed.

"He's used to rocks droppin' on his head. He'll be right."

"I can still hear you from up here, you clowns," the Hig on the second floor shouted as he threw a piece of rubble at the others. They ducked out of the way and urged him to keep checking the rest of the building. After a bit they picked up where they left off.

"Ah fuck me, this rain is cold." The Helghast rubbed his arms.

"Nobody ever told you the weather in Pyrrhus was gonna be well enough for holiday," snapped the corporal.

"All this water is going to screw up our guns."

"Not likely. These things can survive a foot of mud. You don't remember the experiment back at the Academy?"

"Piss on the Academy! Those are days I'd rather not remember."

The rest of the men nodded in agreement.

The private reached the third floor. His rifle jumped to every piece of rubble. Rifle tucked away, I crept out of my hiding place. Cover to cover, knife in hand. Lightning reflected off the blade. My blood raced. The Helghast still hadn't caught sight of me. He sifted through debris, picking up bullet casings and checking them. His heavy breathing muffled my footsteps.

The corporal's voice on the radio almost screwed up my stealthy approach. "Did you find anything yet?"

"Negative. Still on the third floor and no sign of-" He stopped cold when he found my rifle. "I got something." He kicked my rifle into the open. "Yeah it's definitely ISA; I found one of their rifles. Maybe it belonged to the soldier we baked."

"Copy that. Continue to sweep. Destroy the rifle as necessary."

"I read you." He set the rifle against a nearby pillar and scanned the rest of the room.

I swooped in. The thrusts were quick. He didn't have time to gurgle before he plopped onto the floor. I slid the blood-stained knife back into my boot to hide the body. What I hadn't counted on was accidently pulling the pin from one of his grenades. Once the pinging started, instinct took over and I dove behind another desk. Pieces of the Helghast showered the walls. The panicked shouts of the soldiers below reached me once my hearing came back.

"Oh shit! Fan out; it may have been ISA."

Higs raced up the stairwell. I leapt out of cover as the first Red-Eye stepped into the room. He fired, hitting the walls and windows behind me. I grabbed the StA52 dropped by the dead Hig and fired a few blind shots. The Hig covered his buddies coming up the stairs. Three assault rifles pelted my cover, ripping holes into it faster than I could seek cover. I rolled out toward one of the pillars and fired back. One of my bullets snagged a Helghast in the leg.

I heard the unmistakable chirping of a cooked grenade and dove to the same desk the second Helghast picked as cover. The Hig swung the butt of his rifle. I dodged it and game him an uppercut. He took the licking but dropped the rifle as the grenade went off. My ears rang more from his beatdown than the blast. Maybe they were right; the radiation on this planet did make them stronger. There was no time to find out how strong; I picked up his rifle and smacked the side of his helmet. He rolled off but was on me again before I had a chance to fire. The shot punched holes in the ceiling. He gripped the barrel. Big mistake. I fired the whole clip. The recoil and flash weakened his grip on the gun, not mention the dust raining down from the ceiling.

The second swooped in out of nowhere and fired. I barely had enough time to move, but one of the slugs managed to graze my shoulder. The pain stopped me enough to let the Hig on top of me pull away out of his buddy's line of sight. Both hovered over me, barrels pointed at my chest.

"Say your prayers, Vektan."

A blast from the street reminded us of the rocketeer.

"No fucking way."

Way. The rocket slammed into our floor.

"Tell the bastard to stop firing!"

One of the Higs struggled to stand as the building swayed. "Hey! Hold your fire, you fucking-"

Another rocket blast sent the building over the edge. Gravity pulled me toward the windows, the Helghast close behind. The building leaned over the street and slammed into another across the way. Glass shattered as the building spilled the three of us into a restroom. One of the toilets exploded, drenching me with what I hoped was clean water. I staggered toward a sink and held on to the graying edge of the bowl while my equilibrium tried to piece itself back together. The hot-cold sensation of bleeding stretched down the length of my arm and up into my lower neck. Ignoring the pain I peeked out of the bathroom and heard the groans of the Helghast. I got the jump on one and drove my knife into his neck. His partner stepped into the hallway, drenched and with a tri-barrel pistol. I slung the body over my shoulder as fast as I could before the slugs hit. The buckshot hammered away at my meat shield.

When I got close enough, I dropped the carcass and swung with my knife. The Hig evaded my swings and tried to pistol whip me. I stepped to the side. My knife severed the tube on his mask. The Helghast split my eyebrow with his elbow. He followed up with another to my gut. I stuck the knife into his fist. He screamed but tightened the same wounded fist against the pain. I watched in horror as he tried pulling the knife out. I floored him, his helmet slapping against the tile. A knee came down on his throat. I increased the pressure against slaps with the "knife wielding" hand. I grabbed his arm and twisted the knife. His other hand came up and thumped my ribs. The knife came out and went into his gut. His screams became gurgles. The blade went into his throat before slipping back into my boot. I picked up his StA18 when I saw the shotgun pistol was empty. I took a last look at my M4 before deciding not to part with it. I scavenged assault rifle ammo from the two fallen soldiers, picked up one of their guns and made my way through the building.

Cubicles lined the length of the room. Banners with an inverted pyramid hung from the walls. Computer screens lay blank or on the Red Screen of Death. A large painting of Visari shaking hands with a white-haired stranger sat on the other side of the room. He wore the same inverted pyramid badge on his lapel. Wondering where I had seen the symbol before, I found the answer on the requisitioned weapon in my hand.

It was the emblem of Stahl Arms, the largest manufacturer of weaponry on Helghan. The Visari Corporation, property of the Autarch and his family, also produced weapons and was Stahl's main competitor. Maybe the mystery man was Stahl himself?

I bumped into a rolling chair I missed earlier. It crashed into one of the cubicles, bringing its computer to life. Interested in knowing more about Stahl and eager to get my hands on some material on Helghast weaponry, I plopped into the chair and went to work. Password after password failed and I started to wonder why I decided to take the honest route. Reaching into one of the many pouches on my jacket I whipped out a flash drive Vincent procured after raiding an illegal tech arms facility in Rayhoven. The tech was Hig, but it helped me bypass a few Vektan security programs.

Thanks to the drive I gained immediate access to the mainframe. I pulled up the main screen and found the "History of Stahl Arms" icon. Clicking it played a video starting with a collage of weapon demonstrations and prototype vehicles. The video listed off a few of the company's accomplishments: largest weapons manufacturer on Helghan, second in the field of weapons research and development, part of the largest industry on the planet, and responsibility for creating over 50,000 jobs. The same silver-haired man appeared after the not-at-all brief introduction. He introduced himself as Jorhan Brimve Stahl, Chairman and CEO of Stahl Arms. He was very animated as he named off the weapons in development. Text on the screen also mentioned the W.A.S.P., the StA62, the StA2 Battle Pistol and upgrades to current weapons. Interesting knowledge but dull presentation.

Something did catch my eye while filching the company inbox.

_Cc: Vojtech Heraklos, Weapons Test & Development, S.A.D.S._

_Re: Petrusite Concerns_

_Damjan,_

_The results have come back; Petrusite is indeed privy to irradiation. Subjects A and C have displayed greenish hue and dramatic increase in gauss readings. Spike is at Amber Red. Will conduct further studies on biological modification, if at all possible, radiation has on live subjects. Preliminary tests on the spiders show no noticeable changes; perhaps a stronger dosage or more time is required. Will refer to R&D Dept. Hold tight in Constantine; I'm sure the troops will get the engineers to start rebuilding Pyrrhus soon enough. Our teams are scouring the irradiated grid there so it may be some time before you're allowed back. All remains quiet here in S.A.D.S. Your Will stay strong._

_-V.H._

Irradiated Petrusite? Now I'd heard everything.

A rush of fire filled the room. The first row of cubicles melted. Sprinklers went off while the second row went up in flames. I circled around the Pyro Trooper and inched my way toward the emergency elevator. Once the rocketeer stepped into the room, the plan went south. I inched my way back the other way, making sure there was enough ammo to take out the RPG. I leaned out from my cover and popped a few shots. The rocketeer's head carried him to the floor. The Pyro Trooper lit up the cubicles in my direction. I crept back toward the safety elevator. Tired of the little cat and mouse game we played, I popped out of cover and nailed him. His armor may have been flame retardant but it sure as hell wasn't bulletproof. He plopped on top of his flamethrower, the sprinklers washing blood off him.

When the doors of the elevator opened I found myself in the parking garage. The place was free of Helghast. My steps echoed as I scanned the area constantly. I dashed from pillar to pillar, reaching the security booth. Nothing interesting in there except a propaganda poster and Helghast magazine. I thumbed through the articles, curiosity getting the best of me. The image of Pyrrhus being a giant slum couldn't be further from the truth: ads for sales at the local malls, department stores and restaurants lined the pages. Helghan women modeled the latest in fashion. It was my first time looking at a Helghan woman and I had to say except for the pale skin and baldness they were actually very pretty with high cheek bones, small dark eyes, button noses and swan necks. The models wore very little makeup; my guess was so they wouldn't look like "Vektan whores."

I skimmed to a spread dedicated to Visari's birthday. I checked the date: he would have been 53 in two weeks. The gnawing in my stomach returned and I closed the magazine. I stepped out of the security booth and entered another rubble filled alleyway.

Islands of concrete and brick were stepping in the flooded backstreet. The sounds of combat faded into the soft rumble of the rain. I didn't even hear the APCs anymore. No boots marched on the street, no Higs cracked jokes about our dead and no wounded or dying cried out for help. Nothing. The city was dead. All I could hear were my footsteps in the slicks as I turned the corner and made my way up a pile of rubble. I scanned the street, seeing nothing but a downed Intruder and several overturned cars. I continued further up the rubble and into the darkened building. I passed through rows of sewing machines before realizing this was a sweatshop, one of many that Helghans were unfortunately employed in. Images of masked laborers racing to meet the day's quota under the watchful eye of the foremen filled the room.

I stepped past a machine coated with crusted blood and listened to the screams of the victim as the foremen yanked them away and, instead of seeking medical attention, fired them on the spot. I stared out the window at the street below. I saw cars passing through, some civilian and others military. I heard bulletins blasting from speakers on the towers we liked to call "propaganda trees." I saw banners with the Helghan Triad fluttering in the breeze.

A plank led to the building across the street. After scanning the road, I made my way across the plank. It was a dicey walk but I made it. Another abandoned building, this one a school by the looks of it. The final lesson before the evacuation was on Pyrrhus of Epirus. From what I could remember he was a general during Terra's ancient past who devastated armies two or three times the size of his while losing men he couldn't replace easily. I searched the students' desks: books on mathematics, history, and homework ready to be turned in.

They were no different than we were.

I left the room and entered a pitch black corridor. Without NODs the rushing water and howling wind were my only guides through the hallway. The blue glow from the radio module strapped to my chest helped me climb the winding staircase to the roof.

Once on the roof I stepped on a small toy tank. I tried to straighten the turret but gave up quick. I held on to the toy as I stepped further out onto the roof to get a better view. Now I could see the true devastation _Red Dust_ had caused: a smoldering crater big enough to park two capital ships inside ate up the business district. The edge of the crater ended a few miles away from the school. On the other side sat the small mountain where Visari's palace stood. Arcs of green Petrusite rising from the crater reminded me of the message in the Stahl Arms office. It was probably something to tell Narville. If I ever managed reach him. For all I knew Narville was already dead.

The brass told us we'd be in and out within a month. Their weapons would be no match for our military might, moderate to low resistance, enemy morale at an all-time low. We came not only for revenge but to free the people of Helghan from Visari.

How could they have been so wrong?

Then I realized Visari didn't kill Pyrrhus; we did. It was our nuke. We wanted nothing but to destroy the Helghast for what they did to us on Vekta. We had no counter; Visari played his hand well.

I stood back and listened to the rain as it swept over the monument to our failure and brought the gloom of night with it. Guess that's why God didn't let me take the easy way out; He wanted me to see what I helped create.

Next chance you get, stare out at a city you helped kill. It's a shitty reason to live and an even shittier way to end the day.


	11. Fugitives

_Fugitives_

"Quite a view, isn't it?"

I wasn't expecting company but I knew who it was. What surprised me was how quickly he found me. His apology another surprise.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Jammer. If I'd have kept Visari alive then maybe the Higs would've backed down."

"They wouldn't give him up without a fight and he might have been killed either way. At least you could blame it on the Helghast."

He lowered his eyes. "I know, but it doesn't change the fact the Higs are out for blood."

"Guess we're fugitives, huh? Makes me want to find Captain Narville that much more."

"Narville..." I could've sworn he said the name with contempt.

"I take it you don't like the captain?"

"Asshole is what he is. Wouldn't listen to a damn word I said."

"Maybe if you listened to him when dealing with Visari we wouldn't be in this mess."

"If I did listen to him then your sorry ass wouldn't be standing here." He had a point.

"Where should we go then, sarge?" My question ended the silence growing between us. "It's not like we can stay here unless you wanna live like a rat."

He shook his head. "If we had an Intruder, we'd have a better chance of gettin' off this rock."

"I still say we try and find Narville. Our chances of leaving this planet alive would be a lot higher." I tried smiling to get him to come around. He started heading back to the stairs. To say I was getting a little pissed was the understatement of the year. "Why won't you just go to Narville," I snapped. "It's not like he's gonna convene a court martial when he's got so little men left! You might just have a chance to change his mind."

"I can't and I won't. I don't care what he thinks; the man's a coward. There's only two ways to get off this rock: his way and my way." He looked me in the eye. "We tried his way. Do you see stars around you? No, and I'll tell you why: because you listened to Narville and look where it ended up."

"There's always a third option."

He shook his head in disbelief. "You wouldn't last five minutes out there. The Higs would gut you and I won't let that happen."

I spread my arms out. "I made it an hour or two so far, haven't I? If that proves anything, it's this: I don't need you or your bullshit to make it out of here." Fact is I would need Velasquez if I had any hope of getting out in one piece. For the moment, I still had every right to bitch.

"Fuck you then. I don't even know why I bothered saving your bitch ass." He flipped me the bird but stayed on the rooftop. I wouldn't budge either, so we ended up spending what felt like an hour in complete silence.

I started shivering like a pathetic little dog while the sergeant took the weather in stride. I would definetly need that toughness, but I started wondering why so far I was the one who had to make all the damn sacrifices. I slid against the wall next to him, not forgetting we were still at odds. We sat there twiddling our thumbs until I remembered the rest of the men.

"The others downstairs?"

"They're back at the truck."

"What?! What happened to 'I don't leave people behind'?"

"They're there for their own safety. I can't afford to lose anyone."

"So you left them there to come get me? Am I worth the lives of three guys?"

"Now that you mention it," he said looking at the sky, "one man over three ain't worth it." He grabbed his LMG and turned into the stairwell.

Why I stayed on the roof for as long as I did I have no idea, but it gave me more time to think. Here I had another warm body looking out for me even through the crap I gave him. Truth is: I wanted someone or something to keep the fire going in between killing Higs. Velasquez was an easy target because he knew he did wrong. Maybe time would allow me to forgive, but for now I grit my teeth and met up with him in what was once the cafeteria.

He was in the kitchen looking for provisions. He picked up and dropped cans while I placed my rifle on the counter.

"You find anything good," I asked after a minute.

He tossed me the can.

"Can you read Hig?"

"Of course I can." I ran a finger across the words. "Hmm... 'Noodles with meat sauce, just add water.' Sounds yummy." I placed the can back on the counter. "I wouldn't drink the water here."

He nodded in agreement and went back to browsing. "All of these cans say the same thing. This one looks promising." He tossed me another can.

"'Powdered Chicken Breast.' Would _you_ eat this stuff, honestly?" I placed the can on the counter where a small pile was beginning to build.

"I know this isn't fine dining like you're used to, but we got no time to be picky."

In the end we settled for the insta-noodles, the powdered breast and "Diced Beef in meat sauce," names so inspiring you couldn't help but dig in. Velasquez emptied one of his satchels to fit the cans.

"How good are you with grenades," he asked.

"You pull the pin and throw it."

"Alright, wiseass; here," he handed me the remaining grenades from his satchel. In addition to our MREs the food would be enough to hold us over for a month if we conserved. When the bag was filled we retrieved our weapons.

"Now what?" My question echoed through the mess hall.

"Isn't it obvious? Head back to the men."

"Hope there are men to get back to. How'd you know where I was anyway?"

He slung the satchel over his shoulder and motioned me to follow. "We all have to stick together," he said after a bit.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that I'm a girl, would it?"

"What you got between your legs doesn't interest me; it's what you got in your arms."

I looked at my rifle. "Look at you, trying to be a gentleman."

We were forced to grope around for a way out. There was still no radio chatter.

Through the darkness echoed the creak of a door. Light from Helghan's moon came streaming in as Velasquez stepped through the threshold.

We were back in the cold with nothing but the wind whistling through the abandoned avenue.

"We're gonna have to take the back alleys if we want to make it back to the others in one piece," Velasquez suggested. He pointed over to a dark side street.

We wound through it and more endless alleyways and backstreets before hitting a dead end. He gave me a boost and I almost lost my arms trying to pull him up. On the other side of the wall was another alley leading to a boulevard. Once we reached the road, we were hit with more silence. Why weren't they trying harder to look for us?

"Weird, isn't it?"

The question caught me off guard. "What? That it's quiet?"

"Yeah... too quiet." He tried listening from another angle. After a while I heard it too: treads. We slipped back into the alley as an armored patrol marched past. The searchlight lit up the alleyway but missed us. Maybe it was part of the same patrol I spotted earlier? The troops sure looked the same; then again nearly every Hig looked the same to me.

One trooper broke off from the group to take a leak. After the last trickle he picked up his rifle and dashed out of the alley, leaving us with smell of piss. Once the patrol passed us by we snuck a quick look and, with the sergeant taking the lead, made our way into another alley across the street. Helghan rats the size of a puppy bolted in front of me, squeaking all the way. I hate rats and it took everything I had to follow them down the backstreet and over a chain link fence. It was my turn to scope out the scene.

The overpass was within view. I motioned Velasquez over and pointed it out to him.

"That's it, alright."

"How'd you manage to get down from there?" I followed his finger over to a section of the highway collapsed into another building a block away. The street looked clear enough. I stepped into the light but felt a strong hand jerk me back.

"What the-?"

Velasquez covered my mouth and ordered me to shut it. It took me a while to hear the sniffing. War dogs. Judging from the excited shouts coming from their handlers, the dogs managed to catch my scent. Or that of piss. Either way the path led right to us. The sergeant pushed me to the other side of the alley and prepped his LMG. We had no other choice; a dog was hard to trick and even harder to avoid.

The dog rounded the corner, ears up and bright orange goggles focused on the ground. Horrible memories of the Invasion of Vekta came flooding back. If the dogs then were the same dogs used now, then they'd still have the titanium teeth attachment capable of slicing through a femur. I didn't have much of a chance then, but I sure as hell did now.

The yelps more than the gunshots alerted the handlers to our position. They came at us with S-FOX machine pistols but didn't have a chance to fire them; they plopped right next to their dogs. We cleared the street and two more alleys before reaching the building leading up to the highway.

Where a squad of Helghast were standing around a Troop Carrier.

"Damn it," Velasquez whispered. "They weren't there earlier."

"Any ideas," I asked as I loaded a fresh clip. I was ready to fight; the sergeant wasn't which was a big deal. He looked for a way around but the 'Ghast would catch us before we made it halfway.

"We wait, I guess." He lowered his weapon but never took his eyes off the enemy. One of them exited the building, communicated something through the radio and ordered his men onto the carrier. It carried them off and away from the building. We waited a bit, hearing nothing.

Then came the gunfire. M82s. From the highway.

I didn't need to hear the order; I followed Velasquez as he darted across the street and through the building. We helped each other onto the rooftop and raced up the incline, making sure not to trip over the iron bars hidden between cracks in the asphalt. Once on the highway, the gunfire blew up our ears. We headed in the direction of the eighteen-wheeler, dodging burned out cars and mangled street lamps.

The truck was pelted by automatic fire and roasted by the Troop Carrier's mounted flamethrower. The sergeant urged me to pick up the pace.

We both heard the _whoosh_ of the ATAC cutting the air above us. We rolled over and behind cars, the mech following us every step of the way. It launched a few rockets at us, alerting the others to our position. Lucky for us they stayed focus on our guys. It wasn't much to go on seeing as the ATAC kept trying to whittle us down with lead and maneuvers. Without rockets we had to rely on attrition to bring it down.

Velasquez started off with a few well-placed shots at the ATAC's missile bays. The wasp swung away and got a bead on me. I followed the sarge's example and aimed for the missile bays. The ATAC fired from the other bay. The rocket slammed into the asphalt a few feet away and sent me into a car. Glass shattered from the force of the impact and for a split second my back felt funny. The mech swooped in for the kill but another barrage from the LMG got its attention.

The feeling returned to my body. I picked up the rifle and dashed under and away from the machine. It caught sight of me and adjusted its strategy. The LMG fired continued, this time pelting the exhaust ports on the back of the ATAC. Smoke and flame trailed from it as it spun around, launching a salvo at the sergeant. Running and gunning kept him out of the path of the incoming missiles. The ATAC spun until it had an optimal view of the field. Unlike the Heavy this baby wasn't gonna go down easy.

We laid down the payback on the missile bays. It swung around us, leaving a solid trail of red light in a ring above our heads. The ATAC's armor shimmered in the moonlight as it sent stream of bullets at either of us. I whipped out one of the grenades and chucked it at the machine while it was distracted by LMG fire. For a brief moment the ATAC jerked uneasily but caught its footing and swerved around to try and shred me.

The LMG laid into the rear of the ATAC. Unstable but still capable of handing out death, the ATAC chewed up the asphalt with its guns. The sergeant paused to reload and in that time the ATAC got a bead on him.

My turn. I sent the drum of A.R. rounds into the beast, strafing until I had to reload. It took my rounds and spun around to fire off a rocket. I was caught in the middle of reloading; I dropped my rifle and rolled away. The rocket destroyed my rifle, leaving me with nothing but grenades and a jammed pistol. I pulled out a grenade and tossed it at the ATAC. It missed. Deciding not to risk anymore grenades, I crawled behind a car and waited for Velasquez's withering barrage. When it came I pulled out the M4 and tried unjamming it. It fought back the first few times but smoothed itself out. I aimed at the ATAC and fired.

The familiar thunderclap of the pistol echoed off the guardrails as the bullets got the ATAC's attention. I rolled out of cover but was cut off by the chain gun pointed at my chest. That's when Velasquez got behind it and unloaded everything he had. The mech slammed into a wrecked car. The force of the explosion knocked me and the sergeant into each other.

We came to a second later. The eighteen-wheeler was melting.

"Those animals," the sarge growled. He started running to the rescue but I held him back.

"Don't try it or you'll die too."

"What're you talking about? I just took down a fucking ATAC."

"_We_ took it down and barely! Come on; we have to get out before the Higs remember we're here."

"I'm not going to run-"

The M4 went straight to his lips.

"You will this time."

We leapt off the overpass and into the building before the Helghast could reach us. It took all night but we managed to leave Pyrrhus. We were on the lam now, fugitives in a world we knew nothing about.

I came to Helghan with an invasion force 250,000 strong and armed to the teeth, a debt to repay, an Intruder to call my own, and my best friend.

All I had now was Sergeant Velasquez.


	12. Month 1: The Sniper

**MONTH 1**

_The Sniper_

"Wake up, Jammer. Beauty sleep's over."

One hand went to my rifle while the other wiped my eyes. After going through the daily routine of shaking dust out of my hair and stretching every last muscle, I shuffled over to the sergeant. He peered off at something in the distance, though how he could see anything under the glare of Helghan's sun beats me. Boy had eyes like a hawk.

"What is it, sarge?"

"I think the Hig patrol that's been snooping around here is gone for good. They left a few civilians behind. Under guard; sneaking past them shouldn't be much of a problem." He gripped the barrel on his LMG. "Wonder what they got them digging up?"

Remembering the goggles now, I slipped them over my eyes and saw what Velasquez was talking about. About half a klick northwest was a group of Helghan civvies digging around the boneyard. They took the beating from the wind in stride.

"You got me there. Maybe they're scrounging for scrap, but it doesn't explain why they need to be under watch."

"That's what I'm tryin' to figure out. I say we get closer and see what's up." He almost smacked his head against the wall of the shack when he caught his reflection on my goggles.

"I don't know; I think we've done pretty good staying under the radar. I don't wanna run the risk of letting the Helghast know I'm still on their home turf." I brushed a few strands of hair away from the goggles.

"They know we're still here. If they didn't, we wouldn't be hiding would we?"

"Relax, Mr. Attitude. All I'm saying is we should stay put for now."

He nodded then slid the sheet of corrugated metal away from the shack's entrance.

"What are you doing?"

"Just going out for some sun," he shrugged.

"This isn't the time to get curious; curiosity killed the cat, or don't you remember?"

"Well this cat ain't a pussy, alright?"

I tried forgetting what I just heard. "I'm serious."

"Jammer, it's a quick peek. Besides: there's only a chalk of Higs keeping an eye on those civilians. If they spot me, this puppy's enough to take care of anything they throw my way." He lifted his LMG to remind me he had everything under control.

"Gee, I wonder if you told Narville the same thing before you captured Visa-"

His fist slammed against the wall.

"Enough with Visari. I know I messed up so stop rubbing it in my face every chance you get." He steadied his LMG and glared at me. "I'll be back."

He hugged the wall of another shanty, this one less solid than ours. He peeked around the corner, seeing what I saw: one of the civilians handing something to a guard. The guard took one look at the console and tossed it aside. The civilian got upset about something and shoved the guard. Remembering his place too late, he dropped from the flash of the trooper's StA18. Two other civilians were forced to pick up the body and move it from the dig. The pistol-wielding guard sent one of his goons along.

I radioed Velasquez. "Be careful. Looks like these Higs aren't up to building sand castles with you; they just murdered a civilian."

The headset crackled to life. "I know; I saw. All the more reason to see what's so damn valuable."

"There's still a chance to come back; they haven't caught sight of you."

"I know."

Time to go with the flow. "Alright, it's your funer-"

There was no denying the low hum of an Intruder. The Helghast below couldn't quite believe their eyes. The Intruder rained small arms fire down on the Higs. The craft avoided most of the returned fire but took a few hits in the chassis. The pilot was either a rookie or an ace as the craft danced over the heads of the Higs. The civilians huddled inside the protective ring of guards. The StA52's did next to nothing but the soldier with the StA3 kept the Intruder's pilot on their toes.

"Jammer: change of plans. I'm making a move on the Higs." I barely had time to catch the sergeant's buzzing in my ear before he was out of cover and racing through the shanties. Shit.

"Hang on; I'm coming with."

One hand on my rifle and the other keeping me from face planting on the scalding dirt, I snaked through the shanties parallel to the sergeant. I reached the outskirts and an APC with a good vantage point. Velasquez came into view on my right. He didn't give me so much as a warning before he leaned out from cover and sprayed the Helghast. Their attention still on the Intruder, Hig after Hig fell to the M224. I leaned out of cover and watched the Intruder struggling to stay in the air. Part of it clipped the top of nearby shanty. The sergeant and I got a good whiff of smoke spewing from one of the thrusters. The glare from the cockpit window cleared enough for me to see the pilot acknowledge us and try to keep the Intruder from crushing us. Bullets sprinkled the infantry at the top; one of them came crashing down hard on the belly of an overturned APC. I made a mental note of even as the Intruder sped overhead.

"Jammer!" It wasn't a shout so much as a hissing whisper. Reading Velasquez's hand signals, I slid away from cover and snaked through more fallen vehicles as the wind pressed the hood against my face. Trying to get my bearings and keep my hair under control, I heard the Intruder past overhead, spin out of control and head straight for one of the more solid buildings in the village. The crackle in my headset came through crystal clear against the gust and sand.

"I-Eight is going down, I repeat going down! Pull up you piece of crap! PULL UP!"

The side of the Intruder slammed into the concrete "penthouse" of a three story building. Smoke and chunks of plaster rained down on me. Listening for anymore chatter resulted in five seconds of static before it went quiet. The spire of smoke rising from the wreckage revealed its position to friend and enemy.

Then a voice. "We've got to get to the crash site fast."

"Got it," I replied. "I'll meet you there."

"Maintain radio contact; I want to make sure we get through this in one piece."

"I didn't know you cared." It wasn't the best time but blood was flowing and tension building. I thought nothing of the Helghast going my way until rounds pinged against the rusted metallic walls of the lean-tos surrounding me. I slid behind an undamaged sedan as they sped past.

"Forget it; get to the Intruder!"

I fired the StA, plugging one full of rounds. The rest of his buddies did a 180 and fanned out. Bullets punched into my cover. I peeking but it was too much. I pulled out a frag and lobbed it blindly over cover. A nice death scream followed but the shooting stayed the same. Sparks and sand drenched me as a few of the rounds zipped over my head. I hit the dirt, spotting the Helghast positions under the car. Four boots ended up leaving two behind.

I clicked on my headset. "Sarge, where you at? I could use your help right about now."

"I got your position; trying to come up on their flank!"

"Forget it; four of them are headed to the Intruder. Try and cut 'em off. I'll hand these two-"

Two grenades rolled next to my feet. Fuck.

I threw myself out of cover without a second thought. The blast pushed me a few yards across the unpaved street. I spit up sand as the Higs shot up the dirt around me. Going on the offensive now, I took aim and shot at the first exposed Helghast I could see. One down, fire from my right forced me back into cover. I leaned out and caught the Helghast as he was reloading. Not wasting any time, I picked up one of the Hig's magazines and sped toward the crash site. I slid the goggles off from my eyes. As soon they adjusted, I was able to see an Overlord hover above. Wasting no time I took cover against the nearest building and clicked the headset.

"Uh, we've got a little problem here."

"What kind of problem?"

"If I said 'dropship', would it answer your question?"

"You're kidding me! Where at?"

I searched for a landmark but failed to find any. "Keep your ears peeled."

Five seconds of silence.

"Right, I hear it."

"Good; so what do we do about it? I don't have a jeep, a minigun, or Andrews anymore." Poor Andrews; even saying his name left a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

"We just gotta beat it to the crash site then."

The dropship unloaded troops further down the avenue. With one notable exception, all were armed with StA3s.

"Easier said than done; they just unloaded a squad packing a lot of heat. I'm seeing nothing but Stovas."

"Shit. Sit tight till they pass."

I hesitated, unsure if I should say it. I knew it wasn't going to end pretty but we were in over our heads at the moment. I clicked the headset back on.

"I think we should fall back."

Silence. "What did you say?"

"I said we need to pull back; two of us versus a platoon of Stovas is not going to end well. I just hope those guys on the Intruder bought it the second they hit the ground."

"You can run and hide but I'm not leaving them behind, not when there's a chance at least one of them made it."

"Velasquez, quit being so damn gung-ho and accept the truth. Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"Because I didn't come to this planet to lose. Now go if you want to; I don't want a chicken watching my back." Silence.

"Sergeant? Velasquez, come in! Come in, you idiot!"

Nothing but the sound of the Overlord as it circled overhead. I looked back down the street at the Helghast forming a roadblock. There was no use hiding; they knew we were in town. Running back to the shanty wouldn't keep Death from knocking.

"Goddamn, I HATE it when that man's right."

The only bypass to the roadblock was another alley. The path snaked through more shanties up a hill. High ground; excellent. I checked to see if the Higs were paying attention. Focused on the barricade, there was a good chance they wouldn't hear me count to three and speed across and further up the avenue.

I'll be damned if I wasn't the loudest thing in the village.

The Helghast threw a wall of steel at me. I picked myself up and dashed down the cool darkness of the alley. The first turn led a corrugated door. Kicking it in gave me a dark room to hide out. Spotting a loose sheet of metal across the way, I rammed through it with my shoulder and rolled out into another alley.

"Building to building, room to room! They can't hide forever!"

Bolting down the alley and taking another turn away from the voices down the street, I jumped a rickety fence only to have the brittle wood snap under my weight. On my back again, the sun was suddenly blotted out by the silhouette of the Overlord. Its twin mounted Scylla guns peppered the path in front of me. Trapped but not accepting it, I waited for the ship to dry its guns before making a move. The Overlord ceased firing only to evade a rocket that killed one of the Scylla's. Seeing it had bigger fish to fry, the Overlord abandoned me and floated in the direction of the launcher.

"Sergeant, was that you?" Nothing but static. "Damn it, Velasquez!"

"There! Get her!"

I barely managed to turn the corner before a three round burst pelted the dirt path behind me. Twisting through more alleys than I care to remember, I kept one eye on the Overlord as it circled the crash site. It spat lead into the growing cloud of dust. Another rocket grazed the ship and slammed into the water battery on a nearby roof. The Overlord stood still and unloaded another thousand rounds. I missed whatever happened next thanks to my rubbernecking and an inconveniently placed oil drum. We tumbled down the hill and crashed through another shanty.

I was back on my feet and out the door before the frag went off. The drum went up in flames and cut the Higs off from me. Happy with the results my dumbassery created, I went down another street and up a flight of stairs. I snuck into another concrete "penthouse" and found myself staring at the downed Intruder. The pilot landed in an open lot surrounded by brick buildings like the one I occupied. Not bad given what he had to work with.

"Sarge, I made it to the crash site." Nothing.

The Overlord dropped a set of ropes.

"They're unloading more troops!" Still no response. To hell with him.

A chalk of Assault troops landed and secured the wreckage. A rocket shot up from the Intruder and punched the Overlord. The dropship spit its last two guys out before bugging out. The other Higs ignored their two fallen comrades and swarmed the Intruder. The remaining survivor was pulled out and gunned down. Blood racing, I peeked over cover and took aim.

The executioner never heard the sickening crack of the bullet shattering the vertebrae in his neck, but his buddies sure as hell did. Another bullet punched through the helmet of the second soldier, sending his caved-in skull crashing to floor. Half a second later another bullet sent a third Hig to the afterlife. The last guy spotted the source of the fire and aimed. The bullet sliced through his windpipe, snapped his breathing tube in half and sent him to the ground. He clutched his throat, gasping for air. He didn't kick for very long.

None of the shots came from me.

"Jammer, you still at the crash site?" Of course; it had to have been the sergeant. I clicked on my headset.

"Yeah, still here. Those were some fantastic shots, Sarge; the Higs never knew what hit them."

Silence. "What are you talking about, corporal?"

"You mean it _wasn't_ you who took out the chalk?"

"...no, I just got here." A bullet snagged the windowsill in front of me. I hit the dirt and went back to my headset.

"I think we've got a sniper. Bastard almost did me in."

"I read you. You see where the shot came from?"

"If I did we wouldn't be speaking, would we?" All was silent except for the wind and the burning of the Intruder. I raised my rifle up past the window sill. Nothing. I lowered it. "Well I do know one thing: he's the patient type."

"Can you find a way out of there?" Might as well try, I thought to myself. I crawled over to the exit, placing my fingers on the side of the doorframe. Another bullet grazed my fingers. I drew my hand back in and clutched it against the pain.

"Not gonna happen. He grazed me this time; if I try it again you'll have to get to Narville on your own."

"Alright, I'm going to try and draw his fire. When he starts shooting, run for it."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! This guy's an insanely good shot; you're probably not gonna make it very far."

"If he's such a good shot, how come you're not dead?"

"Would you just listen to me for once-?"

"No time! Making a run for it now; you better be ready."

"Wait!" A shot rang out from across the lot, followed by the sickening thud of a bullet hitting flesh. There was a quick yelp and the rushing of dirt as something collapsed. Panic set in.

"Sergeant, do you read me? Velasquez!"

"What the hell are you screaming about?"

A huge wave of relief swept over me. "I thought you made a run for it."

"No but we've got Higs making their way into the area. Sniper's picking them off. Quick, while they keep him busy!"

"Got it." I clicked off the headset, took a deep breath and waited for another shot. Eager to check on the progress of the Helghast, I peered over out the window and watched the squad of Helghast, all armed with Stovas, making their way into the lot. One spotted his fallen comrade in arms; he called to the one I assumed to be in charge and both secured the corpse while the others stood around.

No shot. They were stacked neatly and the sniper was biding his time. Maybe he wasn't on our side...

"You move yet?"

"Negative... he's not shooting at them. What if he's with them?"

"Only one way to find out. Don't move until I tell you, okay?"

"What are you talking about?" No reply. It was rough going talking to this man, I'll tell you. I waited while the Helghast called in a medevac. Seconds felt like minutes as the squad leader instructed four of his men to search the area for more survivors of the crash. The men fanned out, LMGs glinting in the sun. Why wasn't Velasquez moving?

"I've got something here! Looks like ISA!"

My heart thundered in my ears as three LMG gunners trot towards a shack.

"He's dead by the looks of it."

Gunfire from the shack made everyone, including me, jump. The Helghast closest to the shack fell. His companions poured it on.

"Suck on this!" Taking that as the signal and hoping the sniper was distracted, I bolted out of the room and down the stairs. I looked back, the sergeant closing in on the Helghast without letting up. Four of the Stova gunners were down. The squad leader tried holding out on his own. I aimed for the officer only to have another kill robbed by the sniper.

"Jammer, try and locate that sniper! Find out if he's friend or foe. Kill him if you have to!"

The sergeant made a mad dash for an alley as another bullet from the sharpshooter tore into the dirt of the lot. Wasting no time I booked it in the other direction, racing through the winding paths of the shanty town one more time. I made it about a hundred yards when the glint of a rifle caught my eye.

"I got him! He's moving east along the rooftops!"

"Good! Hit his leg and slow him down. Take the shot only when you can!" Taking the advice to heart, I upped my speed and cleared fences with ease. Thank goodness for the hell they put you through in Basic. Knocking over more of the corrugated metal sheets and dodging oil drums, I kept an eye on the sky and one on the street.

"I lost him! You got eyes?"

"Yeah! Taking the shot now!"

The sniper fired back at me. I hung into cover, falling that much behind him. I pushed myself to make up for lost ground. When he was in range, I aimed for his leg and pulled the trigger. The rounds snagged his calf. He slipped off the roof and landed hard on an oil drum. I kicked away the scoped StA14. He pulled out his pistol and fired. I replied with a burst from the StA52. The bullets dinged his head and dragged him off the barrel.

"Sniper was no friend." I studied the sharpshooter. He was Helghast alright... but dressed like a civilian. Blood soaked the cloak wrapped around his head; one of his goggles had been punched clean through by my rounds. "Looks like Hig civilian; he might have been cooperating with the enemy."

"It still doesn't explain why he killed those troops."

"At least he won't be bothering us anymore."

"Right. Meet you back at the crash site; there's bound to be something there worth saving."

"Let's hope so." I looked back at the sniper's corpse. I thought about how Velasquez risked his life twice to get me out of a sticky situation. It was more than I could say for myself and I felt the need to make up for it.

"Hey Sarge..."

"Yeah?"

"...haul ass."


	13. Strange Company

_Strange Company_

It felt good to have an M82 back in my hands.

"You think maybe the sniper actually was on our side," I asked the sergeant. "Maybe not friendly but not one of the Helghast either?"

"What's your point?"

"Didn't I just tell you? When he shot at me those first couple of times, maybe he didn't mean to hit me. He could've been hiding me from the Helghast."

"Why did he run and try to kill you in the end?"

I shrugged. "Maybe he's the shy type? How the hell am I supposed to know why he split?"

He swatted away Helghan flies the size of carpenter bees.

"Damn flies. By the way: you're welcome." He pointed to the M82. "Yeah, think about that the next time you say something smart. Face it, Jammer; you'd be lost without me."

"You're right; if you weren't trying to be my meat shield half the time, there's no guarantee I'd have lasted this long. Oh wait; we're still on Helghan, aren't we? Guess with or without you I'd be screwed."

"The hell is your problem?"

I sighed, trying to let it go. "Let's get back to base."

He shrugged. "Fine by me. You take point."

"I better not catch you staring at my ass."

"Like there's anything to look at."

The sun started dipping behind the rocky barrens by the time we made it back to the shack.

"We shouldn't stick around. I say first thing in the morning we bug out and look for another place to stay. What do you say, corporal?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Glad we agree on something," he said, sliding the sheet away from the "secret" entrance. He paused for a bit. "I think we should check the rest of these houses for supplies before we go."

"I think we've already established that nobody lives out here anymore. This house was bone dry when we found it."

"It wouldn't hurt to try," he said, waiting until I half agreed before he slid the sheet aside.

Beady orange eyes greeted us from the darkness. It wasn't one or two pairs but eight. The sergeant and I had our fingers on the triggers.

"Don't shoot, don't shoot!"

"Hands in the air!"

The hooded figure hobbled out of the shack with hands in the air.

"Please don't shoot; we have wounded and women with children." His excuses didn't stop the sergeant from prodding the barrel of the M224 into his neck. "P-please, my family is here! You wouldn't put my children through that, would you?"

"You look familiar," the sergeant said, shutting the civilian up. "Was it you operating the train to the refinery?"

"No, that was not me! I am but a simple farmer."

"Funny. You Higs all look the same to me." The sergeant pressed the barrel into the man's chest. "What are you doing in our shelter? Don't give me any bullshit; goggles or not I can tell when you 'Ghast are lying."

"He said we've got wounded in here, isn't that enough for you," a woman's voice cut in from the darkness with the same un-Helghast accent as the farmer.

"You can put your hands down," I instructed the civilian. He did but had them back in the air after the sergeant fired a shot at his feet. I stared daggers at Velasquez.

"There's no way I'm gonna give you Higs a chance to rest. Get out," he pointed the barrel of his gun toward the unforgiving barrens beyond the boneyard.

"Please, sir, we have wounded-!"

"I don't care what you have in there. Just be glad I'm letting you out of here alive. After what you Higs did to my friends, I have the right mind to make bug food out of you."

"That's enough, sergeant!" I stepped in front of the farmer. "You bullying these people is really starting to piss me off. They have injured for Chrissakes and children, not to mention they're unarmed."

He scoffed. "Man, you really don't know how people operate do you?"

I shoved him. "Judging by how you were going to massacre a bunch of innocents, neither do you."

He growled but turned to the side and held back his anger. I took this as a sign of backing down and turned to the frightened miner. "You can put your hands back down," I said. I was startled when he went down on his knees and hugged my legs.

"Blessings on you, blessings and apologies." He looked up at me. "We had no idea there were Vektans in the area; had we known we would have stayed away."

"Do you live around here?"

"Yes, hard as it may be for you to believe." He stood. "The soldiers came and took all the young and strong men from their homes. It was then we first heard of the ISA invasion. They left us, the old and the weak, behind."

"Those soldiers had you digging through the wreckage out there. What were you looking for?"

"We don't know... they kept mentioning Petrusite and warned us to be careful when we found it."

"Did they tell you why they had you looking for it?"

He shook his head. "They said it was military business. Anyone who dared ask again would receive the back end of a rifle. I am thankful my children did not think to question them again."

I nodded. "Well you don't worry about them; they've been taken care of."

"They'll be back; they have a headquarters nearby. It is not very big but it is well guarded. You ask Kadmos; he's been there."

He motioned into the shack. The man called Kadmos stepped into the light dressed in the same cloak as the farmer and with a wicked hunchback. The other man helped him over to me. Kadmos looked at me then the sergeant. Velasquez's silence was good for business.

"He won't do anything to you," I assured the old man. "If he does, I'll kill him. Or myself. Either way he's not getting out of here alive." The joke fell flat. I cleared my throat. "Hello... Kadmos. I am Corporal Robles of the Interplanetary Strategic Alliance." I stuck a hand out for him but was left hanging. "Your friend tells me you've been to the base? Tell me: what did you see there?"

Silence. The younger man leaned in and whispered something into the old Helghan's ear.

"Kadmos won't speak with your friend around; as our elder, he was greatly offended by your comrade's harsh words. Kindly ask him to step away. So sorry for this, but he will not speak any other way."

"Don't you worry about it; it'd be my pleasure to send him away." I stepped over to Velasquez. "Their elder won't tell me about what's going on unless you leave the area. Maybe now's a good a time as any to scrounge for supplies."

He snorted. "That I _can_ do. Just make sure you get some good information out of those goggle-eyes."

"Hold up a sec." I turned to the farmer. "My sergeant is going to search the houses for supplies. Will it be fine with you and the elder?"

The farmer looked to the elder, who gave his consent with a wave of the hand.

"He says it's fine so long as your friend leaves any occupants alone."

"You heard 'em. Better scratch your finger on something other than a trigger." He shook his head and disappeared around a corner to begin his search. I returned to the elder who finally spoke up.

"The base... I have been there. Several of my grandchildren are being held there as... assurance of our cooperation."

This was news to me. "Assurance? You don't work willingly with the Helghast?"

"We would if they didn't look at us as worthless parasites. Of course a few young ones resisted, but most of them were rounded up and never seen again. I can hope for the best and think they were forced into the army, but even that leaves a bad taste."

Something about the way he spoke caught my attention. "Your accent's almost-"

"Helghast? I was in the old Helghan army until the failure became too much to bear. We were an inadequate force; I commend Visari's will alone for turning it around." He stared back at me through the goggles. "You could say I defected to join the ranks of the common folk. I brought my family to this place about thirty years ago. I taught the people here how to defend themselves and they elevated me to the position of elder of their tribe."

"You said something about a tribe?"

"Of course. We are a society of tribes, or did you not know?"

_There'll be one victory for the Northlanders..._

_What about Easterners?_

_Pure Centrist... Pyrrhic and all that..._

_Think all us Southlanders have troubles breathing_...

..._half of all Elites were Westerners..._

The Hig conversation made sense now. "To be honest: I'm not familiar with Hig-er, Helghan society, but you said your grandchildren were being held in their camp?"

"Yes, and I know it was a rival tribe who kidnapped them. You must help me get them back."

It was going to be tough giving them this answer. "I'm sorry, but it's not my place to interfere directly with the problems of the indigenous population. It's not part of my mission."

"And what is your mission now... Corporal Robles, was it? You are stranded on a hostile planet and pursued by an enemy who would sooner shoot you than hear your supplications for mercy." To sweeten the pot he added: "Do this for me and I will ensure you safe passage out of this village and to higher ground. I know you had a run-in with the sniper; the sound of those shots was unmistakable."

My head shot up. "You know about the sniper?"

"Yes," he said, waving Mahir aside. "He is no friend of the Helghast, I can assure you."

"Yeah," I agreed. "He pulled a gun on me and I had no choice. What more can you tell me about him?"

The rest of the villagers gasped. The elder was silent for a moment. When he did speak again, it was with indignation. "He was our best shot... and my son."

I tried apologizing but he lifted his hand to stop me.

"We will talk about this after my grandchildren are safe and in my arms."

I wasn't here to rescue enemy civilians, although with Visari dead and the invasion a catastrophic failure there really were no other initiatives than to survive and locate Narville... and this elder did promise safe passage out of this shithole village. Plus I had to make up for killing his son somehow.

"Agreed. We'll get your grandchildren back but we'll have to wait until nightfall."

The old man nodded. "Thank you for this."

"But as a favor for treating your wounded, we're going to need some assistance." I knew it wasn't my place to ask but I'd rather maker sure my debt to him was paid.

"Say no more. Mahir and three others here are the only decent shots we have left, excluding yours truly." His farmer buddy stepped out of the shack with a StA14. Three other guys stepped into the light armed with a StA3, another StA14 and the older model StA52 with shotgun attachment.

"When I told you I taught the people to defend themselves, you didn't think it was to throw bricks, did you?" He parted his cloak to reveal an old IvP Tropov strapped to his leg.

"You mean the whole time I was standing here you had enough guns and men to take me out? Why'd you choose to surrender?"

"Just to see if humans were cold-blooded murdering beasts who would gun down a surrendering Helghan. No Helghan, civilian or soldier, ever surrenders. If we did, I wouldn't be here and most certainly you wouldn't have cause to be standing here either."

"Right. I need to consult with my partner; one machine gun is good but two is definitely better."

Velasquez took the news like I thought he would.

"I am not going to help those backstabbing little pricks. You want to? Fine by me; they got more than enough to take care of you, but keep me out of it."

"Will you quit being such a freakin' child and think about our survival for once?"

"I am and I can see our chances getting smaller the longer you let those Higs live."

"The sniper I killed was the elder's son. You'd think I'd find some way to make it up to him."

"Then you're out of luck. It was your fault."

"You'd do the same thing if he pointed a gun at you. Besides: they promised us safe passage out of here. Isn't that what we want: to get back on track and the others?"

"No, you just want to turn me in to Narville. You want some justice done for all that you've been through. Well you and Narville can kiss my ass for all I care." He turned his back to me.

"Fine, be that way. I'll be sure and tell your 'buddy' Sev how much of a wimp you were when it came to looking out for your men." I stomped away.

I told Kadmos and the others the plan was a-go, but the sergeant would sit this one out.

"I take it he refused because he doesn't trust us."

"Don't worry about him; we'll get by."

I don't know how true my words rang. Velasquez was a necessary evil, a fact I had to get used to or risk losing it all so far from home.


	14. Midnight Rescue

_Midnight Rescue_

The moon hung heavy as Mahir and the others led me to the Helghast camp. The sand glowed, the wind was low and I swore I heard a crunchy squish from one of the Helghans crushing a cadaver beetle. He jumped more from shock than fright.

I slowed my pace as we reached the crest of a dune. The Helghans showed me how they rolled, ninja-style: sliding down the dune with as little sand kicked up as possible. My attempt ended with a mouthful of sand.

Floodlights and the growl of treads on concrete drifted over the next dune. When Kadmos told me about a camp, I didn't expect much; some tents, maybe a Quonset hut and a makeshift landing pad for a dropship. The truth made my hair stand on end; electric fences, solid barracks, MG towers and armor. Three APCs sat snug in their barns while another was on the floor undergoing repair. The Hig grease monkeys were no slouches either; they packed machine pistols. The landing pad was a solid block of concrete and asphalt big enough to support a VTOL. An Overlord was being polished and refueled on the pad. Another tower I assumed was air control sat a few hundred yards away. Helghast swarmed the place. With five of us versus what could be thirty plus troops, I started questioning my sanity.

"They've got every entrance sealed off and every inch covered. There's no way we're going to be able to breach the gate."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Yes we will, but you won't like how." He removed a zip tie from one of his many pockets. I got the idea.

"No way; Helghast don't take prisoners. You'd get me two feet through the gate before those riflemen would pick me off. There's got to be another way, like a sewer or something."

Mahir shook his head. "We have an agreement with the soldiers in the area; bring any ISA survivors to the garrison commander."

"Which means," the LMG gunner cut in, "they will let you live... at least until you are in the commander's presence. From then on it's anyone's guess as to what happens to you. They are looking for someone."

"Yes; Visari's killers." My stomach tightened as Mahir answered. If only they knew about the sergeant. Hoping to end it, I handed them my weapons and held out my hands.

"If there's no other way, then let's do it."

Mahir giggled as he wrapped the zip tie tight around my wrists. "I've always wondered what it would be like to take someone prisoner."

"Yeah sure; just don't get too carried away," I warned him. "Ouch! And not so tight."

"I won't. Okay, 'prisoner', time to get on your feet."

Two of the men pulled me up. Mahir gave one of the riflemen my M82 and told him to stay put and provide sniper cover in case the plan went bad.

My tenure as a prisoner of the Helghast began with a tense march down the dune. The fear got worse the closer we edged toward the camp; we were practically knocking on the front door when one of the towers took notice.

The gruff voice blared down at us from a set of speakers on the closest guard tower. "HALT! Stay where you are! Arms raised!"

A chalk of Assault Troops double timed it to our location. I kept my head down, relying on my captors to do all the talking. Several troopers approached with assault rifles ready. One of them stepped forward.

"Are we finally seeing results from Kadmos?"

"Yes, sir," Mahir replied. "We found this one hiding in our village. There was another but he managed to get away. If you send some men quickly, you may be able to catch him before he escapes."

The trooper fell for the ploy and called a squad to board the Overlord and patrol the village.

"And what of Captain Ohlstedt? You know you can't-" The interrupting soldier was himself interrupted.

"The captain placed me in charge, private, so you will shut your trap and do as you're told. Fall out."

The private looked at me with what I imagined was disgust before making his way towards the drop ship. As soon as he was gone, the lead trooper stepped over and yanked my hood off. He jerked my head up so the 'Ghast could get a better look at me.

"I forget how ugly humans are," he said at last.

"It's not so pleasant from this side, either." A rifle butt smacked me in the gut. I keeled over, my captors kneeling to help me up.

"Leave her," the trooper in charge ordered.

"Ohlstedt ordered us to make sure no harm-"

I heard the cock of a pistol. The lead trooper aimed the weapon at Mahir.

"What was that, scum?" Silence. "Exactly. I'm well aware of Ohlstedt's orders regarding the Vektan scourge. Suffice to say I will not kill her, but I think she needs to be reminded of what happens when she speaks back to a Helghan." He put the pistol away, dragged me up to my feet, took a good look at me and then decked me with his fist. It was a guaranteed shiner. I groaned in pain as he pulled my up by my hair and stared at me through the lifeless goggles. "Next time it will be a bullet to your eye. Do you understand me?"

My groans were cover for the wad of spit building up. When it had grown to the right size and consistency, it splashed his goggles. He sent me back to the floor.

"Take her to the pens! Two of you; keep an eye on those civilians. When she gets there do to her what you will, but make sure she lives." He kicked dirt in my direction before Mahir and the others, led by two troopers, picked me up off the ground and dragged me through the camp toward the coops. I studied the rows of Quonset huts and the Assault infantry making their rounds. Mahir maintained a firm grip on me as his two comrades followed our escort closely.

Mahir's men waited until we reached one of the few blind spots behind the Quonset huts before slipping their knives into the throats of the troopers. They laid the bodies aside as Mahir cut my bonds. It felt good to be free, even if my time as a captive was short-lived.

"Are you alright?"

I touched my eye, flinching from the pain. "Yeah, I'll be fine. A little black eye is nothing to worry about." I checked my pistol and unsheathed my toothpick. Knife in one hand and pistol in the other, I was ready to go. "Right; we've got to get to those pens and make sure Kadmos' grandkids are still there. Let's move."

Making sure none of the guards were informed of my "escape," I motioned for the two riflemen to move up while the LMG stayed behind. I waited for the spotlight to make its round before joining the others. The LMG gunner was close behind. One cleared. So far so good. The next aisle was also clear but the three guards stood around in the third chatting it up.

"Lieutenant Yildan is a bloody disgrace: letting a Vektan whore spit in his face without so much as shovin' his barrel in her mouth. Pathetic."

"Yeah, if it was me I would have shoved it so far down her throat I wouldn't be able to fire from all the vomit."

"Say, why don't we take a stab at the Vektan?"

"Sounds like a plan. Yildan gave his okay, did he?"

"Who cares? He said just to let her live. I'll leave her alive... enough." Two sets of laughter again as the Helghast rounded the corner of the hut and headed the same direction we were. One of them stopped.

"What about the brats locked up in those pens?"

"What about them? Teach them a thing or two about how to handle humans."

"What if you end up messing 'em up and send them back to their old man? Think about the children, man."

"Such a bloody nag you are. We'll move 'em to Ohlstedt's hut." They continued the trek to the pens with us close behind. I made a mental note to take them out before the Helghans got the chance.

We crossed the next two aisles without being seen while tracking the two troopers as they approached the guard at the pens.

"Say; where's the Vektan?"

The guard at the pens shrugged. "What are you going on about? I seen no Vektans coming this way."

The two soldiers looked at each other and shrugged.

"Guess we're going to have to wait on it then-"

An explosion caught us all by surprise. The two soldiers turned on comms.

"Ah shit. One of the fuel lines on the Bull exploded. A mechanic's bought it and they want any available personnel to help with the fire."

"What are you two waiting on? Hop to it!"

"You're lucky you're stuck watching those kids, eh."

The soldiers parted ways, leaving us to deal with the gate guard. He sat in the open and none of us had silenced weapons. Fortunately Mahir had a plan. He dropped his weapon and sped out from cover, waving his hands in the air.

"Help! She's gotten away from us. She's loose somewhere in the camp!"

"What are you going on about," the guard asked.

"The ISA prisoner we were transporting. Quick; she's escaped! You must help me find her!"

"You sodding idiot!" His hand when to his headset, but Mahir jerked it away. "What the devil-"

"No time to call for help! She'll just slip away the longer we wait!" He tried to pull the guard away from his post but the man wouldn't yield.

"Now wait just a bloody minute. There really _is_ a Vektan prisoner?"

"Yes, and if we keep standing around here she'll slip further away from us! Come on; just you and me. We can catch her."

"I wasn't aware we had a prisoner on premises, and just who the hell are you? Why should I believe there _is_ a prisoner? For all I know you're the one that sabotaged that Bull, weren't you?" He aimed the StA52 at Mahir's chest.

"Y-yes! You caught me red handed!" He raised his hands. Just what the Helghan was doing I had no idea; this plan was starting to fall apart the further we traversed the camp and the closer we got to the children.

"Alright, put your hands behind your head, turn round, and get on your knees." The guard almost sounded relieved at finding the source of the explosion. "How they even let you through the front gate... never mind. It was probably Yildan, the idiot."

Before any of us had a chance to react, Mahir was at the guard's throat with the knife. He dug through the man's pockets and retrieved the keys. He fiddled with them until he found the right ones. After unlocking the gate he motioned us over.

The Helghast may be mutated but they certainly weren't dumb; one of the towers spotted Mahir and plugged him full of holes as we were making our move. MG fire drilled into the hut and drowned out everything but the siren.

Turning stealth mode off, I leaned round the corner and sent a couple shots toward the nearest Hig. He dropped but more pressed on. I called our LMG forward. He leaned out from cover and gave the encroaching Helghast a nasty surprise. I left one of the riflemen to watch the LMG gunner's back. I and the remaining Helghan sped toward the barbed wire fence, stopping to secure the keys Mahir dropped.

Dust and chunks of concrete kicked up behind us as we ducked behind steel crates. I scanned the cages for any children. A small group of frightened goggles clustered together in the corner cell.

"Hey I found them!" I turned to the rifleman taking pot shots at the enemy and nailing it every time. "I want you to cover me while I unlock the cage!"

The Helghan took a moment to get in his zone and leaned out of his cover. He fired like a man possessed. At his mark I bolted to the huddled mass of children. Their heads, bald or covered in the same rough spun cloaks as the rest of their tribe, stared at me in fright. To them I must have looked terrifying: hood down, hair all over the place, eye slowly bruising and weapons in each of hand. I looked for the oldest kid.

"Don't be afraid," I told the child. "Kadmos sent me here to get you. Get behind me; on my signal, run for those steel crates; I got one of your friends waiting there for you!"

The petrified children obeyed and huddled around me. The girl gave the go. I raced out into the open. Aiming my pistol at the Higs on ground level, I fired two shots before I shouted to the children to move. On cue the oldest led them in single file to the steel crates. You had to admire the sense of discipline the Helghans possessed.

A bullet tore through my sleeve. I slid back into cover. A burst from one of the MG towers cut me off. The gun went silent as both of her gunners fell over the railing, landing with a sickening thud on the concrete below. I ran out of bullets and the pain in my arm wasn't making reloading any easier. Finally, the rifleman guarding the children burst out from cover and dragged me to safety. I heard the StA3 keep more of the enemy from advancing as the rifleman went to work bandaging me up.

"It's fine, only tissue damage. You'll be okay. Now, how about we get the hell out of here?!"

There was no clear path out; the children would slow us down. Even with sniper cover on the hill and an LMG, there was no way we'd make it out of here unscathed. If I did manage to make it out in one piece, however, first thing I was going to do was give the sergeant a great big kick in the nuts. As long as I had something to look forward to I would find a way to make it out.

One of the APCs roared to life. Great; they were going to crush us to death if the buzz-saw mine sweepers didn't dice us into a bloody pulp. The APC skidded around a corner toward us... and didn't stop. It knocked the Helghast firing at us and flattened them. The APC rolled up and covered us from the dizzying barrage of gunfire. Like something out of a bad action movie, Velasquez and our sniper cover stepped out of the vehicle while Kadmos urged the kids inside. They had no trouble racing into the armored vehicle as the rest of us kept the Helghast busy. Our sniper tossed me the M82. I was good to go.

Once inside, Kadmos pulled the APC up to let the others in before sealing the hatch and beginning our escape. We punched through the gates with a pair of APCs on our tail.

Velasquez grabbed a VC-09. "Up top, Jammer!"

Not wasting any time, I climber into the gunner's seat and aimed for the nearest vehicle. I let loose AR rounds as Velasquez let the rocket go. It landed in the sand behind the armor. He cursed and loaded the next one. This one hit. The APC went rolling into the next one. The buzz-saws on the nose of the vehicle chewed through its partner's armored shell, throwing up chunks of steel and gore as the crew inside bought it. The smoking APC got a bead on us and closed in. The sergeant sent another rocket its way. Another hit. The APC sent shards of metal and severed limbs out onto the sand.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Velasquez's roar echoed on the winds as we approached the village. He looked over at me. "Man, you lucky I came along when I did."

I rolled my eyes. "We could have avoided it all if you came with in the first place." I motioned to the APC. "How the hell'd you even manage to-?"

"How was I gonna let a friendly die out there alone?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Just a few hours ago it didn't seem to bother you."

He put his hand to his ear. "I'm sorry; I still haven't heard a 'thank you.'"

"How about this?" I flipped him off and slipped into the interior of the vehicle. Kadmos was comforting his grandchildren. He held tight to each of them, promising no harm would ever come to them again. I was reminded of my own parents and how they'd never get to see grandchildren of their own... I hugged my knee and laid my head against it to keep the floodgates shut as the armored transport pulled into the safety of the village. The Helghans wanted to celebrate but I craved the one thing all good combat troops can never seem to get enough of and one treasure civilians took for granted.

Sack time.


	15. Downtime

_Downtime_

I switched off the Study Guide on my PDD and put the pencil down. It rolled off onto the folds of the blanket underneath my feet. I brushed strings of hair away from my eyes as I hit the pillow to let my overworked brain cool down. Finals were coming up and my usual end-of-the-year cramming session was well underway. Math and Physics were taken care of but for some reason Interstellar History was kicking my butt. Something about Professor Rodion made me want to _care_ about history. The way he lit up in class when he mentioned even the smallest event made it exciting and relevant.

I listened to the hum of the bladeless fan. My thoughts drifted back to the last session we had with the professor...

"Ms. Robles, pay attention." My back snapped in place as I lifted my hand to show I was in the same time and place as everyone else. Aileen and some others giggled.

"Let's review: the first colonists decided on appointing a colonial governor who would oversee the transition of resources flowing between Terra and the other colonies. Vekta decided on one person to be the head of state. Now: which one of you simpletons can tell me what government Earth operates under?"

Taylor Hammerstein raised her hand and stood up. "An oligarchy, professor."

She went to sit down but Old Blood & Guts wasn't done with her yet. He poured himself another cup of bitter Terran coffee and took a sip. He waited until after smacking his lips to continue the interrogation.

"And what is this oligarchy called, Ms. Hammerstein?" He watched with impatient eyes as Taylor tried to find the right answer.

"The UCA?"

We all jumped with her as the cup slammed on the desk, spilling some coffee in the process. Rodion didn't care; he was more angered by the fact one of his students failed to meet his expectations.

"Incorrect," he said in a whisper as intense as a shout. "You may be seated, Ms. Hammerstein."

For some reason, Taylor wouldn't sit back down. She was paralyzed with fear, her eyes wide and hands trembling at her side. She looked over in my direction, mouthing "help."

"Ms. Hammerstein!" The professor's voice threw her back into her chair.

"Ms. Robles, perhaps you can redeem Ms. Hammerstein. She seems to think highly of you."

Damn it. I knew the answer, but the fear of facing an angry former Marine made me draw a blank. I stood slowly, trying to find the right acronym.

"The UC...N?" A small nod and slight smile. He let me sit and I felt like I had been visited by the angel of mercy.

"Correct; the UCN was founded as a tight-knit alliance between the most powerful nations remaining after the nuclear terror of World War III. There was a board comprised of two representatives from each of the remaining six nations, each serving a four year term. However, one of those could be elected to be Chairman of the Board for a term of eight years." He took another sip.

"The board would serve both as a cabinet, with the notable omission of naming political cronies to key positions, and as a parliament or senate; the judicial branch is its own separate entity. Now, the reason why Terra retains oligarchy rule and the rest of the colonies do not is simple: if oligarchies ruled the colonies not only would there be a mess of red tape long enough to circle the Alpha Centauri system twice, but let us also remember the tried and true philosophy of the 'many' versus 'one.'"

"So what you're saying is the oligarchy is a group of bullies ganging up on the nerdiest kid in the class for his lunch money?" I could not have phrased it any better than Aileen did then. Her question brought a few giggles out of the rest of the class. Rodion wasn't laughing. In fact he took it dead serious.

"This would be the case, Ms. Ouimet. Even if the colonial governor was intrepid enough to defy Terra's authority and ordered an embargo on goods shipped to and from the Home World, Earth has more than enough muscle to, how was it you put it, beat the lunch money out of the nerd? So yes, when you look at it our leadership is bullied by Terra, but think about this before you jump to conclusions: the UCN leads us as well."

"Under the ISA," said Taylor Hammerstein looking to redeem herself.

"Correct, Ms. Hammerstein. The ISA is a thinly veiled Terran establishment populated by colonists handpicked by the UCN claiming to look out for the best interests of the colonies when, in truth, Earth is the only planet which matters."

"What about Mars?" I had to bring it up.

"The Red Planet serves its uses but where do its men come from, Ms. Robles? Now do not get me wrong when I reject Ms. Robles' inquiry; I'd say next to Luna and Terra herself Mars matters most. Jupiter provides fuel for ships but what good are ships without a banner to fly? They'd be looters and plunderers like the corporate bodies in the 21st centuries; this is a past we're striving to get away from."

"What about organizations like the Helghan Corporation?" It was safe to speak of the founding fathers of Vekta and Helghan at this point in time; we had gone over the material the week before.

"You make a valid point, Ms. Ouimet." The excitement swept across Aileen's face.

"The Helghan Corporation's actions, specifically those leading to the Terran Police Action of 2200 or what the annals of history called the 'Extrasolar War,' were prime examples of what Ms. Ouimet has reminded us about. To put it bluntly: the Helghan Corporation became greedy, and when you get rich quick you tend to bite the hand which feeds you; this happened with Terra when it tried to impose stricter trade regulations on the Vekta-based Corporation. Feeling the Helghans were making too much money at their expense, Earth decided to slap the Corporation with heavy tariffs and started taxing the colonies more heavily." He picked up the model ship on his desk. It was gold encrusted, enough to pay for one year of intuition at the university.

"The construction of naval transport and destroyers like this Capital Ship were made possible with the substantial levies gained from the colonies. Yes, there was a time when the common Vektan could barely afford to get food on the table while the shipyards in and around Terra's orbit were building ships intended for their pacification and, if need be, destruction." He placed the ship back on the desk. "Earth can still seize our planet without warning, but so you don't go staining your pants, our colonial administration would have to, putting it bluntly, piss off Terra something fierce to get her all riled up."

We all knew what happened to colonies that riled Terra up; it wasn't pretty.

"The final is next week and _will_ be cumulative, which means you better start hitting those books before you step out the door. As a special treat: no class Friday but I will be holding a review session for those who think they need a little more guidance so you all don't think of me as a total bastard. Hell, during my time in the service we'd have these review sessions because the Navy cares about her soldiers' brains as much as I care about your futures; when I see you walking down the street a few years from now I want to see success and chins held up high. You'll all succeed or I'll put each and every one of you in front of the firing squad, do you get me?" We nodded. "I said 'do you get me?!'"

"We get you, sir!"

Rodion beamed with pride.

"Class is dismissed. See you at the final."

I switched the fan off, reached for the cup of iced tea and took a swig of the stuff. Setting the cup back on the nightstand, I took another look at my notes and felt the familiar eye strain and mild headache. I checked the clock. 1:35 am. I'd been studying, with an hour break for eating, for six hours. I gave into weakness and slipped everything under the bed. I grabbed the PDD, stuck in some earphones and plopped back onto the pillow to let my mind wander.

I almost didn't hear the knock.

"Jimmi, it's me. Can I come in?" Eva's tiny voice greeted my from behind the door. I yanked the earphones out and laid the PDD on the bed.

"Enter," I said in a deep voice. I gave her a smile as she plopped onto my bed. Her hair was a hot mess and her clothes creased with signs of sleep.

"What's up? Can't sleep?"

"Not really. I can't stop thinking about you and Dad."

"This is why you came knocking at one thirty in the morning? I thought you had a nightmare or something." I tossed the PDD on the nightstand and took a quick sip of my tea. "Well, what is it exactly you can't stop thinking about? Is it the fact we don't talk, because let me tell you something right now: I've said all I needed to say. I know it's tough on you and Mom but you have to understand it's not gonna be easy to patch things up. I don't know about him, but you can trust me things won't be like this forever."

"That's easy for you to say, but how do I know things will get better for you? He doesn't mention your name; only time he does is when he's looking at apartments. I think he's hinting at kicking you out."

"We all knew this was coming, Eva. He can keep thinking whatever he wants, I don't care. I'd probably be better off away from this drama anyway."

"But what would I do without my big sister around? I know a lot of kids can't wait till their older siblings move out of the house, but I actually like having you around, as much of a-"

"Nope, don't you even go there."

"I'd feel kind of lost without you. I mean, you _did_ save my bacon. I wish you told Dad the truth; maybe he'd be less angry with you."

I shook my head. "You know him; he's pretty fixed in his ways. Anything having to do with gunpowder he won't deal with. You saw how angry he got when Sal lit those fireworks in the courtyard."

"I don't remember."

"Poor Sal was grounded for eight months. He went ballistic another time when Sal came home with the Army pamphlet."

Her eyes lit up. "I remember that one! It was the angriest I'd seen him in a long time."

"You obviously don't remember the time I tried driving the van to the candy store."

To cut a long and rather unpleasant story short: I was an addict for sour glow-in-the-dark jawbreakers when I was younger. I'd spend hours hiding in closets or other dark rooms with a mirror to see if my tongue still glowed. I even tried reading by tongue-light. Anyway, I'd studied how to start the car, how Mom worked the pedals and how to turn the car in any direction you wanted. Taking the keys from her purse one day I hopped in the driver's seat and started the car. I tried to go in reverse but ended up putting it in drive and plowed into the car parked in front of me. I panicked and kept my foot on the gas until I damn near pushed the other car out of the way. It was a short but unpleasant ride straight into a fence. The engine gave out and I was left with a totaled vehicle. I was very lucky to have had my seat belt on, but when Dad found out what happened I quickly regretted having acted like a "big girl" by buckling up. My addiction for sour jawbreakers ended then and there and to this day you couldn't pay me enough to hold one.

"Oh yeah. You know I just realized something. You need to stay here but not because I need you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's because you need me. How else are you going to handle yourself out there in the real world doing the same crap you did here?" She held up her hands to keep the pillow from smacking into her face.

"Smart ass. I'll remember tonight the next time a college guy starts flirting with you. I'll remember especially for those tall lanky bearded boys with scraggly hair and bad teeth."

She cringed. "I'm sorry, but the guys who go to your college are just about the ugliest I've seen."

"Some of 'em are okay, but their attitude leaves a little something to be desired."

"I don't know... none of them come close to that cute cop. You know the one I mean?"

"You mean Sergeant Wang?"

"Wong!"

"Whoa, someone's in love," I said, trying to look innocent. "What about him? You thinking of asking him out?"

"I didn't say it exactly." It was her turn to look innocent.

"Not on my watch. For starters, Evita: he's a cop; he doesn't have enough time for you. Second: he's got a few years on you, kid, and you're not technically legal yet. You pull this and I'm not the only one Dad's gonna try and kick out."

"Oh I wasn't being serious, Jimmi! A girl can wonder, can't she?"

"Uh-huh..."

"What? You don't think he's cute?"

I shrugged. "He's alright, I guess. I don't know; if you decide to get with a cop, there's always the worry of him not coming home."

"Yeah, but I'd have to say it was a pretty sweet birthday present."

"What was?"

"Giving us a ride home and making sure we were safe." She giggled. "I hope he patrols this area once in a while. It'd be nice to see him again."

"If you want to see him so bad, I could give you his number."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?!"

"Yeah; 9-1-1."

I batted away the fist with my pillow, both of us laughing at the stupid joke.

"I really hope you don't move away, Jimmi; I'll miss you an awful lot." She scooted up and laid her head on my arm. "Staying up late like this and just talking... it's what makes living with you worthwhile." She stuck out her tongue as I rolled my eyes.

"Well, I'll try and stay here for you, Evita. And, if worst comes to worst, you could move in with me."

Her eyes lit up again. "You're serious?"

"Consider it a sacred vow. No way I'm gonna abandon you."

"Oh don't go all corny on me now, Jimmi."

"Why? Because it's working?" She gave me a hard shove and wiped her eyes.

"Shut up."

I guess if I had to leave it all behind, this is what I would miss the most: the laughter and the way we got along so well in spite of the fights. I could have lost her... her and my sanity. I hugged her tight, thankful I still had a little sister, grateful she was there, happy she was the way she was: irreplaceable. I only hoped she felt the same way about me.

By how she hugged back, I knew she did.


	16. Blood Feud

_Blood Feud_

The deal was as soon as we retrieved Kadmos' grandchildren we'd be safely escorted out of the village and to higher ground.

The planet had other plans for us. A nasty Helghan storm hit the next day and stuck around for a week. The concrete walls of the house held back the winds, dust and lightning strikes demolishing the other shanties. Some poor souls living in the shacks bought it with the lightning. Their bodies were charred beyond recognition, electricity racing through the silver fuzz on their heads.

The Helghans we sheltered with took the storm like champions but when Kadmos started showing signs of anxiety everyone started getting antsy. Velasquez was worse; he stayed planted on the floor for hours at a time and jumped at the slightest sound. The rainstorm after the bomb went off did nothing to faze him because Vektans were used to thunderstorms, but Vekta's humidity never prepared us for something as terrifying as dry lightning. I can tell you one thing right now: experiencing a sandstorm once is enough.

Somewhere somebody managed to get ahold of a video screen with a built in power source; this planet was the source of Petrusite, after all. One of the more tech savvy villagers took a stab at getting the squawk box working. He fiddled around with the buttons as the sound of static drowned out the howling winds outside. The collapse of a nearby shanty jolted us.

Finally the volunteer got the machine working. The picture was fuzzy but we managed to get sound which was no small feat. The commercials were ridiculous; more "Meat with Noodles" garbage being peddled under the Thoralf-Sigurd-Vid name. More Helghan text than your average Vektan would ever see filled the screen promoting a special sale in Constantine City on Visari Corporation's new model metropolitan vans. Our roommates ate up the flashy ads, a bit flashier than I gave the Helghast credit for. Most had to do with Constantine City, which every boot on the cruiser knew was where the evacuees from Pyrrhus were shuttled to. Others, older commercials for sure, were for dining within the capital city. A final commercial, which was kinda funny when I think about it, detailed the saga of a lost pair of shoes before advertising "Jhonen Footware" in Pyrrhus.

The familiar synthesized music of a news brief blared through the speakers. The crackle of lightning outside reminded us of the storm, if only for a brief moment, before the newscaster came onto the screen. He looked like any other Helghan: bald and pale but without a mask. Dressed in a sensible tunic, the lower third revealed his and his female co-anchor's name.

"Channel stream seventy four welcomes you back to the Helghan News Network with Albion Chrysostom and Hayana Drees." Albion's face shrunk into a square taking up the upper right corner of the screen as a large image from the same raging dust storm outside filled the screen.

"We're still following developments on the immense sandstorm affecting the capital city region as well as several mining villages in and around the Pyrrhic basin. The sandstorm began north of the abandoned village of Teshan in the Maelstra Barrens region early last week and overtook the basin in under three hours. Local sources inform us this is the largest storm to hit the region in seven years. The last storm grounded all air traffic and flights out of Visari Intercontinental Starport."

It was Hayana's turn to report. "The Autarch himself, may he rest in peace, issued a state of emergency for the entire Pyrrhic basin. The ensuing days were a true test of Helghan grit and will, however thanks to the Autarch's quick response and the National Guard's rapid mobilization a much higher casualty rate would surely have been the reality. Reports indicate as little as three hundred perished in the sandstorm including military personnel whose remains were interred in the Sacred Hall of Valor before its destruction at the hands of the Vektan invaders."

It went back to Albion. "In response to the severe weather in the basin the local authorities and the military have been placed on high alert and have grounded all air traffic and suspended operations in the area. Admiral Orlock, appointed by the Senate as commander in chief in the Autarch's stead, has issued a statement claiming the storm will not hinder efforts to locate stranded ISA aggressors and bring them to justice."

"As well they should be. We can depend on our men and women in uniform to keep these delinquents from committing any more atrocities in the name of their crooked government."

"Indeed, Hayana. We wish those same men and women out there, braving such harsh climes for the safety and security of the Helghan people, blessings and all the gratitude we can offer you. We are forever in your debt."

A slideshow of detained ISA prisoners being led to a fate we knew well splashed onto the screen. Chances are those photos were the only chance the sergeant and I would ever get at seeing another friendly face on this rock. The collage and the news broadcast ended with the Helghast Triad against a black background and the usual copyright information at the bottom of the screen.

After a mandatory "moment of silence for the fallen," the speakers blared with the hosts of "Constant-News," a celebrity gossip show like the ones back on Vekta. Reporting from the Galata district of Constantine City, the show promised to dive into the "secret lives" of Helghan celebrities. It didn't promise much but it certainly delivered... well, at least to the Helghan women and a few interested men in it did. I tried to follow but the celebrities were unfamiliar to me except one.

A quick brief ran on the family of "recently disowned" actor Odalric Holst. Holst was one of the many Helghans who managed to escape during the rise of Visari. A half-breed, Odalric or "Odie" as we knew him back on Vekta became a stage actor before making his way into the mainstream. The story was his family was keeping contact with their famous relative, resulting in their arrest by local authorities. Even the prefect of the Beyzin District where Odie was born told reporters "administrative punishment will be meted out to these miscreants should they be found guilty of their crimes." Constant-News, based on several "sources," went on to claim Holst was "sending subversive messages and money to his relatives in order to further undermine the Helghast authority during this most trying of times."

"Administrative punishment? There is no chance they'll even stand trial," said one of the villagers.

"If they do kill the half-breed's family then he's not liable for the Blood Feud, is he?"

"Not a chance; when he took off he should have taken his family with him. Only way he'll be able to initiate the Blood Feud is if he comes back to Helghan."

One of the other villagers scoffed. "No, I think he's nice and comfortable in his posh estate on Vekta."

"Yes, and letting the local girls sample some half-breed-"

The Helghan was slapped upside his head by one of the women. The child in the lady's arms looked up at her parents, confused but not shocked. Boy, Helghans were hardy people.

"I told you: not in front of the children you fool."

The crowd went quiet as Constant-News gave to us Holst's reaction denying the charges against his relatives and stating "if the Helghast had any sense of justice, they'd let an octogenarian and her mentally unstable daughter out of custody. Banish them if you must, but kill them you shouldn't." I figured exile was merciful to the Helghans but I'm sure the Vektan media would have a field day with it.

"He can say all he wants; he won't get justice unless he undergoes the Blood Feud."

"What is this 'blood feud'?" Somebody had to ask it; I figured the sergeant didn't want to be bothered with learning about the local culture so it fell to me to be educated. The villagers stared at me, confused until they remembered I wasn't one of them and turned back to the screen. Kadmos took me aside and explained everything.

"You are familiar with this actor Holst?" I nodded and he smiled. "Then you must know he is from a mining village further out in the wastes called Suljeva."

"Suljeva," Velasquez cut in.

"Yes. You are familiar with the village?" But Velasquez didn't answer and returned to brooding. I rolled my eyes and Kadmos offered a light chuckle.

"Suljeva was home to another tribe about the same size as our own before Visari seized it. A few were fortunate enough to be accepted as irregular militia while the rest weren't so fortunate. Getting back on subject, there is a custom among the tribes which was our primary form of justice before the Autarch came to power."

"The blood feud?"

"Tradition dictates if any one person or tribe murders the relative of an opposing tribe then they have initiated the blood feud, a vendetta the bereaved must act upon or risk bringing disgrace or destruction onto his tribe. It may take years before the wronged take action but when they do the entire tribe is expected to assist. As you can well imagine this sparks tribal quarrels taking generations to quell." He stopped to remember something. "As a matter of fact, the rival tribe who kidnapped my grandchildren has been locked in such a conflict with this community since even before I arrived. I helped stave them off but their connections with the Helghan authorities were strong, which is why we are few and they remain strong. They don't even remember who started this whole blasted mess; all they remember is whose turn it is to draw blood."

"Sounds like some old human culture."

Kadmos nodded. "Yes, I think you will find we Helghans are not so far removed from our human ancestors, no matter how much propaganda the Senate sputters out telling us otherwise. It is life for these folk; the old Helghan Authority was weak and decentralized which left most of the scattered settlements to fend for themselves and devise codes of morality and whatnot. Visari tried to eliminate it but it is instilled into these tribals from the day they are born and from centuries of tradition; it is, to them, uniquely Helghan and something a city dweller like me could never comprehend."

I guess even Visari couldn't deny the Helghans being Helghan. Somewhere along the line he had to stamp his seal of approval. True unity was found in the army, Kadmos told me, where tribal and social differences didn't matter; city dwellers worked together with tribals to crush their enemies. The old man confessed one of his closest friends came from this village; it was after the man's death during clashes with Visari's militants that he resigned from the armed forces and decided to look up his buddy's village. Now he was stuck taking part in this tribe's Blood Feud.

"Holst would have had the right to continue the vendetta even against a prefect were he still a resident of Helghan. I think you Vektans softened him up, or the human side of him has taken over. Whatever the reason, he's going to have to step aside and let Helghan justice take care of his family."

No longer entertained by Constant-News' state-funded celebrity chatter, I plopped next to the sergeant. He looked at specks of dust creeping into the room from a tiny opening in the window. I looked at him then and could tell he was trying to block whatever was on his mind. He didn't look pissed, which was rare for the little time I had known him. We sat in silence, the only two "humans" in the room, for a while. I finally gathered up the nerve to ask him.

"What happened in Suljeva?"

He was silent for a moment. I thought he wouldn't answer me. "I lost a man there."

I felt for him. "What was his name?"

"...Garza."

"Oh..." I remembered the earlier discussion with the elder. "Did you get the one responsible?"

"...yeah."

Silence.

"I'm sorry I asked."

He looked at me. "I'm sorry he's dead. I never got to tell Sev though." He looked miserable; the storm and memories were doing a number on him. I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small smile.

"Don't worry; you'll get the chance."

He avoided looking at me but nodded then returned to looking at the window. My hand slipped off his shoulder and I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes and letting the drone of the winds and the soft scraping of the sand carry me off into another time and place.


	17. An Officer and a Gentleman

_An Officer and a Gentleman_

Finals were done with. I stepped out of the university feeling a hundred pounds lighter. For the next four and a half weeks I was free from eye strain, texts, notes, and endless cramming sessions. It was gonna be all about me and only me... at least until after I finished doing my holiday shopping. I hated the holidays because I always want things I could never get. What I could get was a new PDD, something I've needed since my piece of junk started going on the fritz months back.

Holiday shopping sucks worse as time goes on because you are obligated to give, something I'd have trouble with this year; Eva usually asked for something a little steep, Mom never wanted anything but for us to help her out more around the house, and Dad was content with something as simple as a bottle of Tequila with a glow-in-the-dark scorpion at the bottom of the bottle (I kid you not, people actually imported this stuff from Earth). As usual Eva and Mom would be costly and simple but because of our recent falling out Dad would prove to be the most difficult. I suppose the most he'd want from me is an apology, an admission of guilt and a promise to stay on the straight and true. Or at least what he thought was the straight and true. I suppose it was time to end the silly feuding, after all; it was the holidays, a time to be together and cherish family, a time to give thanks for what you have and be more appreciative of what you receive by giving back, a time to watch your bank account evaporate.

The cold enveloped my leggings as I continued my journey to find gifts for the family. I passed a corner where someone dressed in festive gear rang a bell, calling anyone who had even heard the word "charity" to donate to the organization she represented. I checked my purse for spare change. I listened to the pleasing sound of coins hit the bottom of the otherwise empty red pail. The woman thanked me and wished me good cheer and junk like that. I took a step away from the pail when another set of coins hit the bottom.

"Why, thank you very much, officer! You have a blessed holiday and thank you for keeping our streets nice and clean."

"I'd take the credit ma'am but between you and me I think the street sweeper would get a little jealous."

I could've sworn I'd heard the voice before. I turned to see who it was and ended up bumping into the cop.

"I'm really sorry about-" I stared up at a friendly and familiar face. "-oh."

"No worries." He studied me. "Say, haven't I seen you somewhere round here?"

Yes you have, Sergeant Wong. Yes you have. "I don't know; I can't recall."

"I knew I recognized that voice," he said, wagging a finger at me. "You're the one with impeccable aim. What was your name again?"

"Jimena Robles." The clap of his hands startled me.

"Of course, how could I forget?" He rubbed his hands together. "How have things been going for you and your sister? Any post-trauma?"

"Not really; I had a couple bad dreams a few nights after but nothing serious. I've been too busy to even care about what happened, what with finals and all." I shrugged. "But you know what it's like; you been to college too."

"Been a while since I've graced the halls of a prestigious university for a reason other than breaking up a drunken shindig or a domestic abuse call. You done with your finals?"

"Y-yeah, pretty much. I mean, yeah they're all done." I nodded.

"Good for you," he said. "You on your way home?"

"Kinda. Actually I was doing a little window shopping, trying to see what I should get the parentals and my sis for Christmas. It's tough to shop for them."

"Maybe I could help you pick."

I glanced at him. "Aren't you on duty? It wouldn't befit an officer of the law to go window shopping on the clock. You could be out nabbing a shoplifter or something."

He pointed to his headset. "Why we have these, lady. Who knows? Maybe helping a pretty girl find her family some presents might make this day a bit more interesting."

"Whoa buddy, I thought girls flirted with the cops, not the other way around." I put my hands on my hips. "For a police officer you're not very professional."

"Well," he said, crossing his arms. "Maybe I'm confident in my abilities is all. Everyone on this block knows who Sergeant Wong is. I get respect."

"Whatever you say, officer."

"And I say we get shopping."

"What makes you so eager to tag along," I asked we walked to our first destination. The officer kept up, occasionally waving to acquaintances.

"Just because I keep these streets clean, doesn't mean nobody's gonna try and dirty them again. You're gonna need an escort... and let's just say you struck me as someone I'd like to get to know better. Plus, I got women in my family to shop for too, you know."

I took his word and kept on moving.

"So, what is it your family needs this holiday season?"

"Sis wants a pair of earrings and I was thinking of getting my mom a gift card for Gienni Jewelry."

"How about getting their presents in the same place? Kill two birds with one stone."

"You seen the price of earrings at Gienni's these days? Besides, my sister may have expensive taste but she won't care if I get them from some clothing store. Let her boyfriend spoil her whenever she nets another one." I almost mentioned her crushing on him but decided to drop it.

"Alright," he said. "It's your money after all. Where to first?"

"I got a hook up at Gienni, so I guess we get the hardest out of the way first: my sister, and we're here."

We entered Eva's favorite store: **LUSCIOUS**. I took two steps and right away was assaulted by the perfume department to the right. The store was swamped and stuffy, which made the fragrances downright intolerable.

"Hello and welcome to **LUSCIOUS**." The associate's bubbly attitude disappeared when she saw the officer tailing me. "I-is there a problem, Sergeant Wong?"

"As a matter of fact there is, Katrina: this young woman is looking for a pair of earrings for her sister. If you would be so kind as to help her with her search, she would greatly appreciate it."

Relief swept over Katrina's face and a not-too-subtle flirty air took over. It was as nauseating as the fragrances.

I shoved and dodged my way over to the jewelry section. Wong and Katrina skimmed along the trail I carved through obnoxious shoppers. I approached the first spinning tower. Wristbands. I moved on to the next one as the two chatted it up. Oh well; didn't need their help anyway. I frequented this outlet as much as Eva... okay, maybe not _as_ much but enough to know half my wardrobe could be traced back here. A cute wristband caught my eye. I'd have to remember to add it to my collection if I had any money left over from Eva's gift.

I found the earrings on the next display tower as Katrina laughed for the whole world to hear. God, she was so fake it was torture. I tried to focus on the search for Eva's gift. There were earrings of all types: turquoise, jade, pearl, sapphire, and crystal butterflies, hearts, stars, rings and hoops. Hmm, I needed a couple studs myself. Judging by how Katrina was laughing I knew she already had plenty to spare... ugh. I picked out the exact set of hoops Eva had been dying for. Emerald would bring out the green in her eyes and I know she'd love it.

"You manage to nab something for your sister?" The officer's voice caught me off guard. I shot around and nodded. He examined the earrings. "These are really nice. I'm sure she'll like these; I know I do."

"You want me to get you a pair too?" He somehow found a way to laugh through it. He shook his head then looked into my eyes. I felt a bit exposed and looked away. As I said before; he wasn't bad looking and something about a guy staring me in the eyes gave me the chills.

"You know something," he said after a moment of silence. "You should get yourself those sapphire studs. They would complement the brown in your eyes."

That just about made my heart start pounding in my throat. My mouth felt dry and I knew my voice would squeak if I said a word.

"Okay," I said in a hushed tone. It had been a while since a boy gave me a sincere compliment. I tried not to think about it as I made my way over to the register. Katrina didn't ring us up but her equally chirpy coworker Dido did. The curly haired girl was calmer than her sales floor sister as she rung me up.

"With everything it's $85.93." Told you Eva was a little steep. As I gave the girl my card, another set of earrings was laid on the counter. They were studs, the ones I wanted. Both the girl and I turned over to the police sergeant giving me a small grin.

"You forgot these, Jimena."

Dido wasted no time in scanning the item. "Your new total comes out to about $174.50."

What the hell was he thinking putting that kinda burden on me? "It's okay; I can do without the studs-"

Wong had other ideas. He leaned over the counter. "Say, Dee; you wouldn't mind doing a favor for me just this once? I mean, is there any way you could, you know..." He gestured something with his hand.

She gave the officer a knowing smile. "You're serious?"

"Please do it for an old friend. I want this girl to be able have a little something-something for herself. Call it the spirit of giving, Dee." The charms of the sergeant got through to her.

"If you say so." She typed away at the keyboard, moved the ball-like mouse with her fingertips, and clicked a few times before hitting a final set of keys. "Okay, your new total is $110.50."

My jaw dropped and stayed there until the girl's impatient finger tapping brought it back up. She swiped my card and I was one hundred and ten dollars short. Hey, it was better than being almost two hundred dollars under. The girl typed at the keypad a few more times before handing back my card and the pairs of earrings in a bag.

"Thanks, Dee," the sergeant waved back as he tried to catch up to me. "Slow down there. What's the rush?"

I glared at him. "You know you didn't have to do it. I didn't even need these earrings."

"Yeah you did."

I stood defiant. "Oh really? And how would you know, officer? You were busy flirting with what's-her-face."

"Yeah, Katrina loves to talk, but eventually you get tired of listening to the same old garbage. This is how I managed to catch you looking back at the earrings, wondering if you should get them or not. Please don't think of me as some sort of stalker; it's a simple observation."

I really didn't have anything to say other than, "Oh, well thanks, I guess."

"Hey, I had some store credit so it was the least I could do."

"What about that family you mentioned?"

"A little too old for that kind of store." He looked at his watch. "I gotta go. You tell your sister I said 'hi' and 'Happy Holidays,' alright? And I'll see you around, hopefully not under criminal circumstances." He gave me one last grin and left me alone with my thoughts.

Why would he do something like that for a complete stranger? Judging by how he interacted with the local wildlife I came up with two conclusions: he liked to smooth talk any girl who came his way... or he was a genuinely nice person. There was one thing about the sergeant; he always left you wanting more. I hoped to run into him sooner rather than later. Eva would want to hear all about my little adventure with her crush.

The sergeant's eyes raced through my mind. Maybe it was best I didn't tell Evita about meeting him again.

I made my way over to Gienni Jewelry as the lazy sun disappeared behind the skyscrapers.


	18. Enemy of my Enemy

_Enemy of my Enemy_

The storm lifted a few days later, marking the fourth week the sergeant and I had been stranded. I woke the day of to the sound of a villager trying to push the sheet of metal away. The mound of sand outside was making life miserable for him. He cursed and asked others to help him. If I remembered correctly his name was Tycho which was shaping up to be a pretty common name on Helghan. Like Kadmos he was one of the community leaders; he even had the privilege to question the elder though it was rare.

One great example of Tycho's concern for his people happened earlier in the week. One of the children suddenly became sick, and when I say sick I mean the works: coughing, mucous, a little vomiting, a high temperature and convulsions. The only medical training the sergeant and I only had was how to bandage a wound until the medic or MEDEVAC swung by to do the real healing. Apparently nobody (even myself, I'm ashamed to say) thought about doing this but Tycho: moving the child away from the stifling room to higher ground where the air was easier to breathe. I volunteered to secure the upper floor while the patient and her mother were placed in quarantine. Kadmos had about as much medical training as we did so it fell to Tycho and the tribe's "healer." The healer was one of these providers of primitive aid, relying on Helghan's natural resources for curing. She cracked open capsules of aspirin and poured the dust into a bowl she carried around with her. Over the powder she crushed some flowers from weeds the natives called Jaisa then added what looked like a single coiled intestine. Tycho explained the organ's function to us.

"The heart of the spiders you may have run into. It is believed the safest level of Petrusite coursing through their bodies is stored in the heart."

"So... electrotherapy?"

"Not quite. Just watch." And watch we did as the healer added a little water and ground up the ingredients. The paste sparked due to the small levels of Petrusite. When the paste was thick enough, the healer scooped some of it up with her finger and, removing the veil covering her mouth, sampled some. She smacked her lips before nodding in approval. She took another helping of the paste but this time removed the child's veil and ordered the girl's mother to open her mouth. The paste went into the kid's mouth. Two more helpings of the paste and the "healing" was complete. The old woman whispered to Tycho before leaving the room.

Tycho kept watch and even managed to comfort the wildcat of a girl's mother. The next day the girl was stable enough to stand and speak. Tycho left the room and we were able to see what his support cost him: a black eye, a few bruises and a gash cut clear across his scalp. He didn't see the healer until after the woman and her child had been fed. There was chatter Tycho would be next to head the tribe. I relayed this info to Velasquez once we were alone and trying to shovel our MREs down before our exfil from the village.

"You think Tycho would make a good leader for these people? He obviously cares more than Kadmos sometimes."

Velasquez didn't bother to finish chewing. "Why do you care so much about these Higs? Isn't better to stay out of whatever it is they do to get by and try to find a way out of here?"

"They _are_ our way out, how many times do I have to remind you? By the way: you still haven't told me what changed your mind the other night."

He shrugged. "The civilians are easier to convince than the soldiers."

"You convinced them? With what? On second thought, I don't wanna know."

But he let me know anyway. "All I had to do was make a few promises, point my gun a few times and-"

"You threatened them?!"

"The old man wasn't gonna get off his ass to help you any other way. He kept saying the others would get you in and out in one piece. If I know anything about the Helghast it's to never trust their word. You saw how their women shoot; to think he was holding back."

"No arguments there, but still; you gotta learn to cut it out. One day you're gonna piss off the wrong people and they're gonna blow your head off without hesitating."

He laughed. "I'd like to see them try." He stroked the LMG lying next to him.

"When's the last time you cleaned it?"

"Last night? You didn't see me?" He cleared his throat as he chewed.

"You're not too exciting to be around. Only time you pull through is when I'm up to my neck in it."

"Which seems to be all the time from what I've seen." He eyed the M4. "You're still carrying it?"

"What about it?"

"Nothing. I had one back on Vekta." He set his MRE aside. "Now I'm gonna ask you something: if we're going to work together we're going to have to be a little nicer to each other, right?"

For once he and I agreed on something. "You know," I said, putting my spoon down. "It's getting kind of tiresome calling you sarge and sergeant. Even Velasquez is getting a little stale. Got any other names I can wear out?"

"My friends call me Rico. Short for-" He hesitated.

"Ricardo?" I guessed. He cringed like he tasted something sour. I couldn't help but laugh. "Ricardo?! Wow, and I thought I had the bad name."

"Whatever happened to not pissing the wrong people off," he snarled.

"I'm sorry," I said in between laughs. "It's just... well it's not the name I would have picked out for you. You don't look like a Ricardo. What's your full name?"

"I've told you enough. What about you? I know 'Jammer' Robles ain't your real name."

I went back and forth over whether to tell him my real name or not. "Jimena."

"Alright." Way to make me look like a jerk, Rico. "Jimena Robles. You said you were from Rayhoven East?"

"Born and raised. Not a bad city if you don't mind the god-awful humidity. Safe, mostly; the cops did their job well out there." I was reminded of the police sergeant. "They did their job well."

"I'd say the same thing about my neighborhood, only the cops tended to stay out of the slums." He snorted and wiped his nose with the back of his gloved hand. "They had plenty of rich people and ISA command to look after. I don't think there was a house in South that wasn't strapped except for the Church and Old Lady Billinghurst's place. But she didn't need to be packing heat; lady could stop a bullet just by looking at it."

"Was she really ugly?"

"Ugly no but scary as hell and big. Planet sized. Bitch had her own orbit and everything."

I tried holding back the laughter but he noticed.

"Oh, looks like you don't mind talking shit once in a while. I should have seen it with the way you were doing it to me earlier."

"Fine, guilty as charged; just please stop before it reverberates around the house."

"Reverber-what?"

"Uh, echoes."

"Right."

I had to ask. "You ever finish school, sergeant?"

"You wanna live to find out?" I couldn't tell if he was serious.

"Easy there. Simple question."

"I went to some. You know how it is when you're trying to run a business."

"Oh right, the restaurant thing. I've been meaning to ask: you ever make much money? I mean you had to if you're still sitting here."

"Enough to get by. Our landlord..." He shook his head and groaned lightly. "I swear with all the money we gave him he could have at least fixed up the place. A toilet on one of the lower floors was broken for four years. I don't even wanna think what those people had to do when it came time to dump a load."

"Okay, enough." There was silence between us for a minute. "If I was brave enough I would have gone down to your restaurant and had a bite to eat."

He lit up a little. "I didn't do much cooking," he admitted. "I mostly cleaned and served customers. Mama, grandma, and Auntie Gloria did all the cooking."

"I see."

"What about you? What did you do for a living?"

"Went to school. I never worked a day in my life."

"What about your parents?"

"Dad was a foreman at the shuttle repair docks in Rayhoven, Mom worked as a secretary at the same company. They met when she was a receptionist. Classic office romance, you know how it goes."

"I see. It explains you being a pilot."

I shrugged. "I guess. I was actually trying for engineer like him, but changed after... a while. Always wanted to pilot a starship." I sighed. "I guess an Intruder is better than nothing, right?"

"I would have a tough time trying to pilot one of those things. You're brave to even do it."

"Thank you," I shouted. "Finally someone who understands!"

One of the Helghan kids came running up the stairs. "Kadmos says your escort's ready, but you see..."

"What's wrong?"

"One of the scouts reported seeing vehicles coming this way. ISA jeeps, it looks like."

"Say what," the sergeant asked as I smashed one of the windows open. I scanned the horizon with my binoculars. They were our jeeps alright. Five of them, one with the automatic grenade launcher turret bolted to the chassis. The personnel on the vehicles, on the other hand, weren't ISA. I backed away from the window.

"Looks like Kadmos had a little going away party planned but forgot to tell us. I'm counting five jeeps, all loaded with indigenous personnel and looking none too friendly."

"The Kaals!"

"Friends of yours," the sergeant asked.

"They are the ones who kidnapped our elder's grandchildren!"

"Looks like they heard about our little camping trip," the sergeant said coolly. He looked to me. "You locked and loaded, Jammer?"

"Wait; we're going to fight them?"

"Unless you can outrun a three ton jeep with a maximum speed of seventy miles an hour, then it looks like we're going to have to." He turned to the Helghan. "Those rocket launchers we captured still have any ammo left?"

"No, but I have this." He handed over what looked like a more primitive version of the StA2 and his supply of ammunition for the weapon. "I'm not very good at using it, but perhaps someone better trained such as yourselves would make more use of it. I must really be going; the ambush isn't going to set itself up." He disappeared down the flight of stairs, leaving the sergeant and me with the shiny new toy.

"Looks like a BP-02. Higs used these on Vekta, if I can remember correctly. One shot and in the time it takes you to reload the enemy'd have their barrel up your ass and fired half their magazine. Catch," he tossed me the gun.

"You're not serious?"

"Your turn to blow shit up, dead eye. Plus you got all the grenades." His words rang true for all of three seconds before I tossed him the satchel with the explosives.

"Then you take them," I said after he caught the satchel. "I'm gonna need mobility with this thing. Hand 'em out to the villagers and try to smile when you do." I made my way down the stairs.

"Alright, but if the old Hig does anything fishy I'm blowing his head off got it?"

"Be my guest," I said without even thinking about it. I unholstered the M4, switched the safety on, and stick in snug in my boot. I slipped the BP-02 into the holster and checked the magazine on the M82, fired one round to make sure dust hadn't jammed it and stepped outside. The entire village except for three heavily armed women and the elder moved into the boneyard. I made my way over to Kadmos urging his grandchildren to say inside and promising them he'd be in there shortly. By the time he spotted me he was frantic.

"The Kaal! You must hide; there's no telling what they'll do if they capture you!"

"We'll help in any way we can," I assured him.

"Thank you, but your debt to me and the tribe has already been repaid. There is no need to risk yourselves like this. To the east is the safest route out of the village!"

"No way, old man," Velasquez answered. "I'm not leaving until I know there isn't a single armed Hig following me. We're staying."

Oo-rah, sarge. I spotted Tycho leading the group and told Rico.

"I say we take the flank; looks like the jeeps know they're running into an ambush."

"Good idea. They'll never know what hit them. Let's go."

Within seconds of assuring Kadmos and his family were safely locked away, we were on the bounce snaking through the sandy alleys as the jeeps crept closer to the boneyard. Cover to cover, stopping only to listen to how close the jeeps were getting. Once we could smell the smoke through the muggy air of the barrens, we split and hid behind two separate scrap piles. We waited, listening to the growls of the jeeps as they punched through the gates to the boneyard and skidded to a stop. Engines were left running as the Kaal dismounted, scoping out the area. One crept toward our cover and away from the others. The sergeant extracted his toothpick and waited until he was within range.

Gunfire erupted, signaling the start of the ambush. StA14s, 11s and 52's fired off in every direction as the grenade launcher roared to life. The tribal in the sergeant's crosshairs stopped, jolted by the sudden commotion. In one fluid motion, Velasquez had his arm on the Hig's face and the knife in his back. He brought the native down with him gently, letting his StA14 drop. Dumping the body aside and sheathing his knife, he picked up his LMG and kicked the rifle towards me. Leave it to the sergeant to not want to stick his neck out until absolutely necessary.

I holstered the M82 and made my way round my cover, stopping behind the charred remains of a washing machine. Enough of a bullet shield provided somebody filled it with concrete. I peeked out from the edge, but most of the battlefield was obscured by the scrap. I did catch sight of the auto grenade gunner on the jeep. He kept our allies suppressed as the rest of the attack force moved in. I got a bead on the gunner, aimed for his head and waited for the wind to die down a bit. In the split second between breezes I fired. The headless corpse slumped over and off the launcher. I made my way back to the sergeant but found myself face to face with three Helghast trying a flanking maneuver. No use in hiding now; I slid behind cover as their shots kicked up dirt around me. The rapid fire burst from the 224 brought them down. I stepped out of cover and moved with the sergeant to the kill zone. We came up behind one side of the attack force; he pointed to the grenade pistol. I found two riflemen hugging the remains of a hover tank and squeezed. The satisfying _plunk_ of the discharge arched the grenade toward the riflemen. The frag landed short of the targets but hit with enough force to send them barreling against the hull of the tank. They didn't move and that was good enough for me.

"Come on, Jammer. I don't think Tycho's gonna hold without our help!"

The next few moments of the firefight were insane. The sergeant sped from cover to cover with me in close pursuit. Some of the Kaal noticed us and tossed a few grenades. The frags overshot us with one or two landing in our way. We broke off, seeking cover as the explosions rattled our ears. The Kaal took cover expertly; these Higs were obviously well trained by their allies in the Helghast army. Another frag sent me barreling for a stronger point of cover. Several meters separated me and Velasquez, but we took to our new cover points like they were reinforced bunkers. As the grenade detonated harmlessly a few feet behind me, I leaned out once again and spotted a Kaal on the move to another point of cover. I tracked him and unloaded half the clip of the StA14 in his direction. One of the shots managed to ding him through the waist. A few shots pinged the tank carcass shielding me.

My M82 back in my hands, I waited until the grenadiers finished their volley before taking off. I sped out and ahead of the tank to the rusted shell of an AAAPC, its anti-air guns twisted beyond repair. I heard the _rata-tat-tat_ of the sergeant's LMG as he advanced. The roar of a Stova served as a counterbalance to the sarge's 224. Another joined in, and still another directed at the Kaal from what I could hear.

I pulled the BP02 out and scanned the area for the enemy Stova. One hugged cover low while the other was higher up on the edge of the boneyard. Checked the distance. Raised the pistol. Shot. The grenade arched toward the gunner, knocking him up and over his cover.

The Kaal, despite their losses, pushed on. We double-timed it, making it to Tycho as his line was about to collapse. His riflemen were wicked accurate, matched only by the professionally trained Riflemen in the HGH. Their dwindling numbers didn't help their cause. We rendezvoused with Tycho, who was nursing a shoulder wound and glad to see us.

"Lemme take a look at your wou-"

"No time," Tycho shouted back. "The Kaal advancing are too many; we need to pull back and regroup in the village." He groaned. "Draw them into the main street and pick them off one by one. We'll have the high ground then." He reached for his rifle. I stopped him.

"Leave it. We'll cover your retreat."

But he wouldn't listen; he picked up the gun and aimed at the nearest Kaal, blowing his brains out half a second later.

"Retreat! Fall back to the village!" His orders were obeyed. One by one the villagers retreated, our base of fire shrinking but our fire rate increasing; a few times Rico went full auto. Tycho went mad on the StA14 as I whipped out the BP02. I aimed for another cluster and shot. The frag splattered them against the rusted hulls of the vehicles. I loaded another frag and let it fly, tearing the leg off an enemy tribal. One of his buddies jumped over him and sprayed us with SMG fire. He rolled to avoid Tycho's shots but was cut short of retaliation by the 224.

"Wounded evacuating to our left," Velasquez sounded off.

"Give them some cover," I barked back. I didn't hear his M224 stop, earning him my respect. I loaded another grenade and launched it at a rushing Kaal. He collapsed as another tribal running parallel to him got a dozen bullets in his chest. The second Stova gunner advanced, spraying the sergeant's position. I switched to my rifle and popped a few shots. The bullets smacked into his head, sending him tumbling. Another Kaal sped up to reinforce him. I slipped back into cover, the bullets nanoseconds away from putting me down. He rolled a grenade up towards us. I bolted out of cover, bullets whizzing past me as I rolled into the next patch of cover. It was soft; just my luck. The rifleman poured on the fire; I waited for his reload before moving. He didn't track my movement and ended up firing at my old cover. I crept up behind and put three bullets in his spine.

Feeling a bit invincible at this point, I leapt out of cover only to be clocked by a rifle-toting Kaal waiting for me to make a stupid move. As soon as I hit the floor I pulled the rifle barrel to and away from me. The ringing in my ears from the shot and the dirt in my face didn't stop me pulling the tribal to me. He collapsed throat first into my elbow. He was on his knees, hacking. I took his rifle and swung it like a baseball bat. He was down and I slammed the bulge on the back of his head to for good measure. I rejoined the others, promising I'd never let the success get to my head again.

"They're clear!" Velasquez's communique was cut short by a sound I was all too well acquainted with. "Dropship! They're making a move for the village!"

"There's no way they'll hold," Tycho shouted back.

"We're gonna have to push to the jeeps!"

"Wait a second; you're not thinking of leaving them behind, are you," I asked, taking Tycho's words out of his mouth.

"Just push to the jeeps!"

Against instinct I obeyed, Rico and Tycho close behind. I reached the unguarded jeeps, but the Overlord had been tracking me. It unloaded its twin Scyllas. One of the jeeps went up in flames while another's front tires took the brunt of the punishment. Using only what I had, I mounted the turret and took control of the automatic grenade launcher. Cocked and locked, I sprayed the Overlord. The grenades pelted the dropship. The sergeant and Tycho arrived as the ship got a bead on me and took the shot. Velasquez took the driver's seat while our Helghan ally rode shotgun. The jeep roared to life and went in full reverse. We smashed through the wall of the boneyard and made it to the sands of the barrens. Velasquez piloted the vehicle in the direction of the village. Kaal fired back from the scrapyard.

"Jammer, hammer 'em!"

The Overlord began pelting us.

We sped back to the village, the murderous sprays from the dropship plugging holes in the sand around us. It was only until we were back in the village when the gunship broke off its attack. A few friendlies straggled out of the scrapyard with the Kaal in hot pursuit. I fired the grenade launcher, sending a couple more to the grave and the rest for cover. Their numbers were thinned before we had a chance to move. When we did we had only to round a corner before the Overlord reared its ugly head again, this time dropping troops inside the village. As soon as the ship dropped its customers off, though, something happened that would be explained to me later.

Up to this point I thought the assaulting Kaal worked with the Helghast; what I saw were Helghast troopers firing on both tribes. The Overlord gunned down Kaal and friendlies alike. Some of the Kaal fired back but the rest found cover. What little remained of Kadmos' tribe wasn't as lucky; their bodies clogged the main avenue. Some of them managed to make it to the stronghold where Kadmos and his guard were holed up. The squad of Higs progressed with ruthless efficiency, exterminating both groups of tribals as they moved on the house. A few Kaal fired at the troopers; as highly trained and coordinated as they seemed they were putty in the hands of the enemy squad.

"Hold on!" Velasquez gave the warning a fraction of a second before the jeep jerked forward. He raced toward the Helghast lines as I fired back at the Kaals. I really didn't know what he was planning but I needed to be sure our asses were covered. Tycho took potshots at the enemy Higs, hitting a few and knocking them down so Velasquez could finish the job with the jeep.

"ISA!" I plugged the Assault trooper full of holes as a reward for guessing right.

"Kill the traitors!"

"TRAITAAA-_Oof!_" The sergeant ran over another Hig as more Kaal fell to the launcher. A wild shot popped one of the tires, sending us into a spin.

"Hang on!" The sergeant's plea echoed as I was thrown into a shanty. I blacked out for a second before everything came back. Gunshots and shouts were muffled as the jeep came into focus. The vehicle was stopped, but the sergeant and Tycho were pinned behind it and firing back at the Kaal and Higs. Tycho took notice of me and risked his neck to drag me back to the jeep. Once safe, he slapped the side of my head.

"Can you hear me? Good."

"Get on the turret, Jammer. We've got you covered!"

I was back in the mangled turret mowing down tribals and soldiers alike. The Helghast squad stood little chance against fire from the front and rear; the Kaal making a desperate charge toward the jeep cut 'em down by the bushel. Rifle, turret, and LMG fire ran them into the ground yet they kept coming. The Overlord decided to circle back around and whittle down the enemy lines. Wasting no time, I got back on the grenade launcher and beat on the gunship. It swayed back and forth, its guns shelling the brick-and-mortar buildings around it. I kept the finger on the trigger, aiming directly for the cockpit. Smoke engulfed the ship as it moved away from the Kaal and tried a flanking maneuver. I tracked it and destroyed one of the turrets. The ship lost altitude with each grenade I threw at it. It buckled under the pressure and slammed into one of the buildings.

"Drop ship dow-"

A rocket to the jeep cut my status report short. This time the ground greeted me. The world around me faded in and out as I sat up. Moments of pitch black marked the progress of a rocket toting Helghast approaching me. He dropped the tube and pulled out a machine pistol. A strange, hulking device I couldn't make out hugged his body. He walked with it easy enough and was quick as Tycho found out. The friendly Helghan bolted to my rescue. The stranger grabbed the rifle with a gauntlet and wrenched it away effortlessly. The machine pistol went off, filling Tycho full of lead.

The stranger was greeted with a volley from behind. The device on his back sizzled breaking his cool. Velasquez charged but was blindsided. The LMG landed a few feet away from me. He and the sergeant engaged in hand to hand, but the stranger won thanks to his strange gauntlet. He got the sergeant in a chokehold and it was over. Velasquez slumped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. My heartbeat flooded my ears as I began the agonizing crawl for the LMG. My efforts were met with the gun being kicked away and the gauntlet grabbing hold of my neck. My feet dangled as the stranger let gravity do the work.

It took five seconds.


	19. Bittersweet Reunion

_Bittersweet Reunion_

"Oh my god, hoops! Thank you Jimmi!"

My sister's death grip brought me out of the usual holiday stupor when presents were being opened.

"It was nothing, Eva. Um... you mind letting go? I sort of can't breathe."

It was Christmas Eve; the house was warm from a stove working since five in the morning, smelled of food we barely finished stuffing our faces with and was well lit by the lights reflecting off the tinsel. A small tree sat in the corner next to the video screen decked in ribbon and spheres. The star at the top of the tree flashed with a mini-strobe effect. Mother sat next to Eva on the couch while Dad was at home on his favorite chair. I sat Indian style on the floor with my back to the video screen, giving him enough space. Not a single word was said between us at the dinner table; tensions were halted for the sake of the holidays. Seeing Eva and Mom glow with the gifts they received would've been enough to warm the wall of ice separating us, only neither of us was ready to take the first step.

"Open the one I gave you, Jimmi. I _know_ you're just gonna love it!"

Awake and feeling more alive than before, I slipped the ribbon off the packaging and tore away the wrapping paper. I knew from the get-go it was going to be clothes, but who knows? Maybe Eva would surprise me with a book or something so out of the ordinary I'd have to twist her arm to erase the memory.

Sure enough something a bit low cut stared back at me. It came out of the box and took the familiar form of the dress I drooled over at _Ma Petite_, my other favorite store: single shoulder one-sleeved mini with OLED trim. The deep violet-blue of the dress was pleasing to the eyes and the soft white glow of the OLED beads outshined the tinsel. But Eva wasn't done yet; she went all out and got me the matching open-toe mini boots, jewelry, some eye-shadow and glitter. I was on cloud nine.

"Oh Eva, this is gonna be tough to top next year."

"Better start saving then because I have a few things in mind already!" She leaned in. "You like it?"

"I'd be stupid not to."

"Good because you're going to have to wait to wear it all."

"Oh really?" I put my fists on my hips. "Tell me why."

"Because you ain't wearing a darn thing till you turn twenty-one, young lady." She tried her best to imitate Mom and failed miserably. "You're gonna stun when you hit the club and I won't take no for an answer."

I couldn't believe it; twenty-one in less than two months. Knowing it and looking at the dress made me want time to fly by.

"You're next, Daddy. Here, open Mom's present first." Some people never lose their childhood wonder of Christmas; Eva was one. I just hope she continued to see life with the same wonder and excitement. She beamed as our father struggled with the wrapping paper; it was as if that night in the park was nothing but a bad dream. I wish I had her positivity…then again she _was_ a morning person and if there was anything out there more annoying than a chipper person trying to wake you in the morning I had yet to find it.

Eva lit up the room when Dad pulled out the brand new Nixon brand wristwatch. It wasn't cheap; Eva insisted on one with a Petrusite power cell meaning the thing would keep ticking long after our great grandchildren had passed. Of us all Eva was obviously the one most excited to see his reaction. She was more than pleased when he gave her the biggest grin he could.

"It's a gift from all of us to show the one man of the house how much we appreciate him," Mom added.

"Mom, Jimmi, and I pitched in to get it for you!" I swear she was five years old all over again.

"Thank you, sweetie; I love it." He gave Eva one of his bear hugs; I'm sure Mom would get her thanks later tonight. As for me: I didn't expect it nor did I look for it.

"Jimmi's the one who picked it out," Eva gestured over to me. My dad gave me a blank stare, almost apprehensive. I lowered my eyes.

Mother was on the bounce and quick to make up for Evita's mistake. "Here, David; open this next one." As she handed him the box, the phone chirped to life. She stepped over the remains of wrapping paper and ribbon on the carpet leading to the kitchen.

Dad was greeted with the customary bottle of Tequila, complete with the same festive glow-in-the dark scorpion at the bottom. He raised the bottle like a trophy, his laughter filling the house. Eva joined him while I sat out. While Eva tried to convince Dad to let her have just one shot this year, I made my way into the kitchen to check on Mom. Judging from her tone the conversation she had was not a pleasant one.

"...I-we just don't know if we're ready to talk to you yet. You hurt us a great deal with what you did... I know I'm talking to you now but you haven't really given me much of choice. Look, I recognize you're sorry but it doesn't change the reality... I know it's the holidays but..." She pulled up a chair, phone in one hand while the other her temple.

Her arm flew off her head. "Are you insane? What possessed you to-no, it's too much right now. The pain is still very fresh, can't you understand?" Her voice started to crack on the last few words. I'd seen Mom moved to tears on rare occasions, chick flicks notwithstanding, and it never sat well with me. I swept in and wrenched the phone from her hands.

"Who is this?" Silence. "Answer me!" More silence.

Then: "Hey Jay; long time no speak."

I almost brought the phone down with me; luckily a chair was waiting. The voice from my past remained patient as I tried to keep myself from falling to pieces. Tears weren't happening; anger was.

"S-Sal, is that you?"

"You got it right, sis." There was no hint of amusement in his voice; he sounded defeated more than anything. It probably took him a lot to hold back exactly what Mom and I were feeling. "Merry Christmas," he managed to say after a minute. "How you been?"

I grit my teeth. The memories came flooding back: the games we played, the talks we shared and the bond we built looking out for each other. I missed him dearly, but I'd lived my life so far without him. If it wasn't for his stupid mistake I'd still be on friendly terms with Dad and I might have been able to have a gun. I didn't check my anger when I opened my mouth to reply.

"Why the hell do you care? You're too busy gutting people in the pen to even bother with me or Eva. Why didn't you try calling before?" It was a stupid question; everyone in the house knew the answer.

He kept calm. "Look, I told Mom I wanted a chance to apologize for what I did to you guys, to the family. I wanted to do a screen call, but she won't-"

"Of course she won't, I wouldn't either! You messed up big time, Sal; if you weren't so selfish you would have been here with the rest of us, with your pretty little wife and baby. Instead you're inside and probably loving every minute of it."

"Will you shut the fuck up and let me speak?" He never raised his voice but his tone was grizzled, hard and cold. "I know I messed up, there's no need to remind me of it when it won't leave me alone. I'm paying my debt to the poor kid who won't get to spend another Christmas with his family; the least I could ask for from you guys is _your_ support. Let me ask you something, Jay: when's the last time _you_ bothered calling me? Did you all forget to drop by and pay me a visit or something?" His voice got colder. "You've all pretty much disowned me as far as I can tell. When I learned it's probably what happened, I told myself 'to hell with them; I don't need them anyway.' I swore if I ever got out I wouldn't have anything to do with y'all; you wouldn't even be worth killing." He sighed. "But anger, like time, passes. I got to thinking maybe it's what would happen to you guys, but I can see it hasn't. I won't allow it to stand in my way, though. What I have to tell you all is important; I'd rather you find out through me than have to find out another way."

"And why should we care what you have to say?"

"Because things are never gonna be the same after I tell you. I'm only doing this because I still care about you guys, as messed up as your handling of my situation has been. Convince Mom to get the screen call up; Dad most of all needs to hear this." The darkness in his voice froze me in place. Did he finally snap? Was he handed the death sentence and allowed only one phone call before his Last Meal?

"Dad hates me enough as it is right now; you think this is gonna improve my chances of fixing it with him? He'll probably think we're in league and have been the whole time to make his life as miserable as possible."

"Why is he mad at you?"

"It's none of your concern. Look; things were better before you called. Our Christmas was going along without a hitch and it still can without you trying to butt in." Guilt took over. "Look, I'm sorry we didn't call or stop by to see how you were doing; it was really fucked up for us to do, but listen: we've learned to live without you. You can imagine the only times Mom and Dad even mention your name is when we do something bad, Eva's had her first boyfriend without her big brother to keep him in check, I graduated High School and got into ASU and Dad was promoted to foreman of the shuttle repair bay in Rayhoven. You missed this and a lot more, Sal, and once somebody misses these things it's hard to get them caught up."

"You like to think I sleep soundly behind these bars, don't you? Three square meals a day and a bed to lay on make me cherish the fact I bled some poor kid like a pig? Shaking off nightmares without so much as a second thought? You're living in your own prison: delusion."

He left me speechless. This wasn't the same Salvador whose mode of thinking never made it past fart jokes. He left me stupefied enough for Mom to snatch the phone and walk into the den. It took a few seconds to register what she was about to do. I bolted up from my chair and chased her into the room where Eva and Dad were watching a Christmas special. She blocked the screen and patched in the call. I came in too late as I heard Sal say "Thank you." I cringed as Dad stirred in his seat and Eva looked on. Mom stood in front of screen, shoulders stooped like she was having second thoughts.

"Please, let me talk to them," Sal said.

Mom shook her head, still trying to avoid the potential fallout. Fear paralyzed me; even if I managed to turn off the screen it would be obvious we were hiding something. I knew my mother; she kept no secrets and sooner or later the guilt would gnaw at her and my father would have to find out the hard way. There was nothing I could do except step back and allow this to happen. Mom reached the same conclusion because she stepped out of the way and for the first time in years we laid eyes on our missing family member.

Not a single word was said. We took time to study the boy who became a man behind bars. Gone were the pinchable cheeks, tangled hair and thin mustached face of the Salvador I remembered. Instead I came face to face with a well-shaved inmate with tattoos crawling up beneath his collar and a buzz cut. He was pale, to say the least, but lost weight and bulked up during his decade of imprisonment. Staring back at the prisoner on the monitor, I found it hard to believe this was the same boy who used to give me piggy back rides and would complain about my weight no matter how strong he got. He wasn't the same kid who would bring sandwiches home from his job at the local deli while our parents were out for the night. He looked nothing like the awkward chubby teenager who spent most of his time playing video games and the rest of the time putting off doing his homework. No, I was staring back into the soulless eyes of a felon, a man who murdered in cold blood. This was not our Sally; it was Prisoner X78-M5623.

"Hello, everyone. Long time no see."

Dad was busy gathering himself; only Eva returned the greeting.

"Oh my... Sally, is that you?"

Sal smiled. He still had the same stupid sweet smile as before.

"Hey E. Damn, you've grown; I remember the last time I saw you, you were tiny. Jimmi told me you had a boyfriend; is that true?"

"Y-yeah. I'm sorry, Sally... I just can't believe it really is you. I hardly recognize you."

"I'm surprised you still remember me! You and Jay have grown so much, though. About this boyfriend of yours; does he treat you right?"

"Y-yeah, well he did. We broke up a few months ago. Don't worry, it was a friendly breakup; still talk occasionally."

"Why would it matter to you, anyway?" Dad came out swinging. He got up from his chair and tried to tower over the screen. My brother's face didn't change expression but the tone in his voice did.

"Hey Dad. Long time no-"

"Don't you start your bullshit. The last thing I wanted to hear on Christmas Eve was your voice, much less be forced to speak with you."

"If you'd let me explain-"

"Go ahead and explain whatever it is you need to explain. When you're done, kindly crawl back into your cell and stay there like a good little inmate. Oh, and be sure never to bother us again."

"David!" Mom's objection caught Dad a little off guard, but he picked himself right back up.

"It's alright, Mom." To my father: "I know you don't agree with the path I chose in my youth-"

"Who would?"

"-however I've come to accept I'd done wrong. I've had to deal with the pain the past ten years and I've also accepted the pain will never leave even after I set foot again in the real world. It'll hound me the same way you've allowed it to hound you and the rest of the family."

"Ridiculous! We've done well enough without you."

"You like to think so, but in truth you've let it hang over everyone's head. I know what I did caused great suffering, but what you've done only made things worse. You're as much responsible for your suffering and theirs as I am."

"Enough! I did what any man would do for their family and I will be damned if I let a criminal, a _murderer_ tell me what I've done was wrong. Face it: your name is a curse in this house."

"No, _you_ face it." For once Sal's tone matched my dad's. The guard in the back paid closer attention to my riled up brother. "You've denied my sisters a brother and my mother her child. Most of all you denied yourself a son, your pride and joy and the one to carry your name. It's sad, really; in trying to avoid pain you've actually made it worse for yourself and it's a damn shame you had to make the girls and Mom live this hell with you."

"You think not having you around hurts? You couldn't be further from the truth, boy."

"Then how about having me around? Would it be enough to hurt you, pops?" The smartass Sal I knew came out for a moment and surprised us all, Dad most of all.

"What are you saying?"

"Exactly what you think I'm saying; in two weeks I'll be on parole."

There wasn't a jaw in the room not hanging open; this was important news and I could've been the one to deny us hearing it.

Only Eva said anything positive. "That's great, Sally! We can finally make up for lost time!"

"There's the catch, E; I can't come visit you since I'll be under house arrest and spending most of my time undergoing some mandatory 'resocialization' by a psychologist to ease me back into everyday living."

"How'd you manage to get off with such a light sentence?"

"Oh it was anything but light, Jay. Lucky for me Mom raised me well enough: I didn't get involved with anyone, didn't commit any crime other than the one which got me in here in the first place, and worked a few shifts in the kitchen and barbershop. Before I knew it I was talking to a lawyer and got slapped with parole." He shrugged. "Guess I was one of the lucky ones."

Evita remaining ever upbeat. "You're not lucky Sally; I knew you were one of the good ones."

Dad's disbelief grew along with his anger. "This can't be. How could a judge be so irresponsible, so blind to let a felon like you back on the streets?"

My mother remained a statue next to the screen.

"He's not irresponsible; unlike you he has a heart. Things are going to change from now on; I'm going to be back in your lives whether you want it or not. I won't be living under the same roof so you can thank God if you want, but I'm going to make sure my sisters have an older brother to look up to, even if they think they're too old for it." For the first time since he started speaking, his eyes brightened. "I've missed out on too much as it is; I'm not going to miss out on any more graduations, on any weddings and being an uncle. Most of all: I'm _not_ going to miss out on being a father a second time." He leaned back, listening to what the guard had to tell him. We didn't quite catch it but we understood the gist of it.

"Time's up. It was nice seeing you all again. Have a Merry Christmas and I'll see you back on the outside real soon."

The image cut out, leaving us with a blue screen and the "Vekta Hears" Telecommunications logo. After about two minutes of silence, Dad stormed out of the room but not before shooting us a warning.

"When the... bastard gets out of jail, I forbid either of you from seeing him, have I made myself clear?"

"But Daddy-"

"End of discussion, Evita!"

"You can't forbid us; we're adults. We're entitled to make our own decisions." I didn't mean for it to sound rebellious; I was pointing out the one detail he failed to remember. But the man didn't work right when furious.

"Watch your mouth, young lady; you're already on my shit list and as long as you choose to continue living here you'll play by the house rules. Don't like it? There's the door; nobody's keeping you."

Hot, I stomped into the kitchen to down more of the egg nog. What I poured wasn't the rated G grocery store product either; somebody ran down to the liquor store and picked up this particular beauty loaded with rum. I figured Mom went to calm down the man I called Father because Eva crept into the kitchen by herself.

"Easy there, Jimmi; you don't want to be an alchie before you turn twenty-one, do you?"

"Trust me, Eva; getting wasted and passing out on the couch would be the only highlight of the night." I chugged the glass in one go. The strong taste of the rum hit me through the sweet thickness of the nog.

"That's not true," my sister snapped, angrier than I'd seen her in a while. "What about the time we spent as a family: dinner, sitting in a warm den, opening presents? We finally had the entire family together for Christmas, if only for a little bit, and the one thing you took away was pain?" She tore the bottle from my hands. "Are you really so selfish, Jimena?"

"Whatever." I left the empty glass on the counter and shoved her aside. I slipped into the safety of my room, locked the door and plopped on my bed stomach first. It was tough trying to clear a mental path for sleep to take over, but tears certainly helped.

The rift between Dad and I wouldn't be healed any time soon and the return of Sal complicated things.

I was already looking forward to the New Year. Things could only get worse in 2357 before they got better.


End file.
